Always Someone There
by KumaKichii
Summary: Nagihiko discovers a shocking secret about Rima. But is there anything he can to to help?
1. What's That Sound?

A month or so ago, a normal day at Seiyo academy would've consisted of students milling about the halls, teachers gossiping about God-knows-what, and the Guardians discussing the current activity of the Easter corporation in the Royal Garden. Now was just a little bit different; students still chatted happily with their friends in the hallways while the teachers exchanged torture methods—or that's what the kids always said. But now, a normal day in the Royal Garden consisted of the Joker, Ace, Queen, and myself, the Jack, spacing out and only half-listening while the King, Tadase Hotori, rambled on about school activities and whatnot.

I wasn't sure if Tadase was aware that we were ignoring him or not, but he continued his spiel as if completely oblivious to the fact that he was pretty much talking to himself.

"Rima-chan, what happened?" A sudden question from Amu, directed at the little blonde sitting across from me, interrupted Tadase mid-sentence. He looked annoyed, but tried not to show it. Amu was looking at a small bruise on Rima's pale skin, about an inch under her right eye. I had noticed it myself, but hadn't dared ask about it—Rima and I weren't exactly what anyone would call "close."

The petite girl, the Queen chair of the Guardians, looked up at her bubblegum-haired friend. She looked thoughtful for a second, as if she didn't really know how to answer—I guessed that she hadn't expected to be called out on her mild injury. "I… It's nothing, really. I tripped yesterday." Her voice was quiet, as it usually was, but something about it made me think that, for some unknown reason, she was lying. It might've been my imagination, though, because no one else seemed to catch it.

"You've been kind of klutzy this week," Amu remarked, and vaguely I thought to myself that no one but her would be able to say something like that to Rima and not earn themselves a bruise of their own. But after contemplating what the Joker had said, I realized that she was right. A few days ago, Rima had shown up to school with a cut across her left cheek. She'd insisted that she'd only been scratched by a tree branch, but she'd had she same look in her eyes that she had now—the one that made me suspect that she'd been lying then, too. This suspicion was backed up by the fact that Rima was too short to be scratched by even the lowest-hanging of all tree branches.

Tadase resumed his boring speech, and we all went back to ignoring him. Letting my eyes wander around the room, I noticed that even Amu was tired of listening to the King's rambling, and I held back a laugh.

Then my gaze landed on Rima; the petite little girl had her chin resting heavily on the upturned palm of her hand, and it looked as if she were resisting the impossible urge to fall asleep—the Ace chair, Yaya, had already fallen into that temptation, and was snoozing peacefully with her head on the table.

After a few seconds of staring at Rima, which was not something I often did, I noticed something strange. Looking a little more closely, I was able to see that another bruise, a bit larger than the one on her face, marked the pale skin of her neck. I couldn't help but stare at the darkened area in shock and confusion—where was she getting these injuries?

"What are _you _staring at, Fujisaki?" Rima's voice was more irritated than usual, and I jumped, not expecting the harsh tone she'd used. I had been hoping that she wouldn't notice me staring in the first place.

"N-Nothing," I lied, and she glared daggers in my direction. _Great, now she probably thinks I'm some kind of creeper... _The thought was not appealing to me, as I didn't want to give the girl more of a reason to dislike me. I was unsure why she did in the first place, because—as far as I knew—I was a pretty easy guy to get along with.

Rima said nothing else, but as she shot a final, angry glare at me, I noticed her shift her sitting position so that her butterscotch curls fell over the bruise on her neck, obscuring it from view. Something wasn't quite right, and even though I knew it was none of my business, I couldn't help being curious.

Several moments later, Tadase said the one thing that caught everyone's attention; it was what they'd been wanting to hear for the past forty-five agonizing minutes: "Alright, keep all of that in mind during the next few days—" I didn't know how we would, as none of us had been paying attention from the beginning, "—and have a good afternoon. This Guardian meeting has officially come to a close."

Yaya, somehow hearing this even though she had been asleep, jumped up and squealed in the obnoxious manner that made everyone want to run from the room. "Yaya's so glad that the meeting is over!" she said happily. "Tadase was starting to get a little boring!"  
"That's the understatement of the year..." Rima muttered, and I couldn't help but nod in agreement.

Yaya grabbed her schoolbag and headed for the door. Before leaving, she turned back and waved, calling, "Buh-bye, guys! Yaya has some stuff to do today, so she can't stay and chat!" Then she was gone, leaving the rest of us grimacing from her loud screeching.

Amu stood up and gave us a tiny, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, guys," she said. "I have to watch Ami today while my parents are out, so I can't really stay either."

Tadase smiled at her in a reassuring way. "Don't worry about it, Amu-chan," he said. "There's not much work to do anyway." By _work_, I figured that he meant paperwork that had to be filled out for the school. Amu nodded gratefully and left the Royal Garden.

I had a bad feeling that I was going to be the one to get stuck helping Tadase with the paperwork, and I wondered if I should make up some kind of excuse and run away like the other two. Before I had the chance, Rima stood up, collected her belongings, and left without a word.

Tadase looked at me, and it was obvious by the look on his face that he wasn't going to let me get away. I sighed heavily as he handed me a stack of forms that needed filled out—there weren't _that _many, but there were enough that, even though we split the stack evenly between us, I could expect to be in the Royal Garden for at least the next hour.

Thankfully, the forms were simple, and there wasn't much to fill out on each one. Between the two of us, Tadase and I were able to clear the stack of paper rather quickly, and by the time we were finished, only about forty minutes had elapsed.

"Thanks for helping out, Fujisaki-kun," the King smiled, and I acknowledged him by nodding. "I'm sorry it took so long," he continued, "it would've gone quicker if the others had been able to stay."

Though I didn't voice my thoughts out loud, I knew that Yaya had left early only because she _knew _that there was paperwork. Filling out forms was not Yaya's strong suit, as she usually fell asleep before she'd completed the first three. I believed that Amu was telling the truth—she often had to babysit her younger sister Ami while her parents were busy. I held back a laugh at the thought that she'd probably show up to school exhausted the next morning; Ami had enough energy for five three-year-olds.

Rima, on the other hand, left simply because she knew that we wouldn't stop her. At times, I couldn't help but wonder if, to a certain extent, Tadase was afraid of the little girl. She did have a temper, and she could be rather frightening at times. But for people like me, it was difficult to be intimidated by someone the size of a seven-year-old.

I grabbed my schoolbag and said goodbye to Tadase, who'd insisted that I go ahead and leave. He'd said that he had other things to take care of at the school anyway, and that he'd be there a while.

Making my way toward the school's exit, I reflected on the day's events. The first thing to come to mind was Rima and her unexplained injuries. Even though the bruises were small and would heal quickly like the cut from a few days ago, I was still a little worried. Rima had never really been what anyone would call a clumsy person, and it bothered me that she was lying about the origin of the injuries, especially to Amu. Rima never hid anything from Amu.

Still contemplating this, I happened to pass by the restrooms on my way out. Suddenly I stopped walking, hearing something coming from one of them. Listening carefully, I was able to make out a distinct sound from the girls' bathroom, and it sent chills up my spine.

The sound of a girl crying.


	2. The Most Unlikely

Startled by the unexpected sound of a sobbing girl, my first instinct was to try to comfort her. But I was faced with two problems—first of all, I had no idea who she was. I didn't know if she was someone I had met before, or if she may be a complete stranger.

Second, she had taken shelter in the girls' restroom—this wasn't really an issue, because there was no one around; all the students had gone home, and I was one of the few that remained. The halls were currently empty. What I was worried about was the fact that a boy just walking right into the girls' bathroom might startle the girl inside, and by the sound of her anguished cried, that was a _really _bad idea.

Hoping that it would help with the second situation just a little, I tied my long hair back into a loose ponytail. Though it would be obvious that I wasn't really a girl, as I was wearing the boys' school uniform, I hoped that it would lessen the shock, if only a little.

Stepping quietly around the corner and into the restroom, I looked around for the source of the crying—the girl was obviously in one of the stalls. Walking quietly up to the only one that was closed, I knocked lightly on the door. "Are you alright in there?" I asked in a voice that wasn't my own—it was much higher, and very feminine. The agonized cried abruptly stopped, but there was a lot of sniffling coming from behind the closed door.

"I-I'm o-okay..." I had no clue why, but the voice, though shaky, sounded familiar to me. I wondered if she was a girl from one of my classes.

Still keeping my voice at the higher pitch, I asked gently, "Would you like to talk?" I was hoping to comfort the girl—I didn't like to see anyone crying, and the very thought that she may be someone I knew made me want to help her even more. However, I received no reply.

I continued to stand outside the stall, listening to the pitiful sniffling from inside. I figured that if I pried too much, she would refuse to come out at all, so I remained silent. After several more moments, I was ready to give up. It pained me to leave the girl; her cries had tugged at my heart, and I wanted so badly to talk to her, to see if there was anything I could possibly do. But that would be impossible if she refused to come out of her hiding place.

I sighed and turned away, but from inside the stall came a soft, "Don't go..." So I looked back, wondering if she was finally going to show herself. After about half a minute, the stall door opened slowly, and a small girl looked up at me with tear-filled hazel eyes. And those eyes widened in total shock as she recognized me, as I was sure mine did when I realized who I was looking at.

The shock only lasted for a minute or so before she remembered why she'd been crying in the first place, calling forth a round of fresh tears. The sight of her crying was enough to snap me out of my stupor as well, and I rested my hand on her shoulder. I was right about her being someone I knew—but I'd thought that she would be someone I only knew vaguely, such as someone in my class that I wasn't really acquainted with. This girl, however, was quite the opposite, and someone that I knew rather well. "Rima-chan, why are you crying?"

The little blonde wiped her eyes with her tiny fists, but the tears didn't stop. If anything, they got worse. I was a little worried—the only tears I'd ever seen Rima cry had been fake, but I could tell that these were very real, and I wondered what could possibly upset her this much. I led her over to the wall and sat down on the floor, leaning against it. She did the same, though the tears didn't let up in the least as she did so. Rima buried her face in her knees and curled up into a remarkably ball-like position. Her tiny shoulders shook with her sobs, and I felt bad for her. I didn't know what was wrong, but I didn't want to ask for fear of upsetting her further.

Instead, I gently put my arm around her, trying to calm the small girl. After several long moments, the sobs died down a little, and her breathing became a bit steadier. Trying to comfort her, I gently rubbed her back while she seemed to be concentrating on breathing evenly.

She didn't uncurl her body, but her left hand, resting against her leg, attracted my attention. Looking closer, I was able to see another bruise marking the pale skin on her wrist, only half-covered by the cuff of her long-sleeved uniform. Curiously, I took hold of the sleeve and started to pull it up—Rima slapped my hand away harshly, and a part of me thought that I shouldn't have expected anything less. But that wasn't my main concern at the moment—the glimpse of Rima's arm that I had gotten, though I hadn't been able to get her sleeve up very far, stunned me. There were several bruises dotted across the part of her forearm that I had been able to see, as well as a scratch or two.

Rima hastily tugged her sleeve back into place and glared angrily up at me, tears still flowing freely from her hazel eyes. "Take your hair down. You look stupid," she said, and though she tried to sound annoyed and angry, the obvious tremble in her voice, when added to the tears, made it clear that she was still very upset.

Doing as she'd asked, I let my hair down and continued to rub her back comfortingly. After a short while she looked up at me again, and this time she looked wary. "Why are y-you helping m-me...?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from shaking.

I looked at her sympathetically and whispered, "I don't like to see anyone cry—that means you, too." My instinct was to comfort someone when they needed it; I hated to see anyone upset, and a crying girl was no exception; even if that girl happened to hate my guts.

She still hadn't stopped crying, and I was really starting to worry. I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off. "R-relax," she said quietly, and I was glad that she didn't sound quite so annoyed this time. "I'm o-okay..."

After a few more silent moments, the tears finally slowed, and then stopped altogether. She swiped her little hands across her cheeks, ridding them of the remaining droplets and taking a few shaky breaths. I still had my hand on her back, but she didn't seem to notice—or if she did notice, she didn't seem to mind.

"Rima," I said, but I stopped myself. As curious as I was about the bruises and cuts on her arm as well as her face, I knew that it was none of my business. I also feared that asking any such questions might bring on another round of tears which, if possible, was best to avoid.

She looked up at me, and her eyes showed a startling mix of emotions: anger, sadness, betrayal, hurt... "I knew I wouldn't be able to hide it for long," she said bitterly, and pulled up her sleeve, baring her arm all the way up to her shoulder. My eyes widened; bruises, ranging from small to large, were scattered across her skin. Small scratches marked several places as well.

I suddenly felt as if I was going to throw up. "Rima," I said, choking on the word. I didn't know what to say, or if there were even any words that could be said. I had been right about her lying to the Guardians about her injuries, and now I could see why she'd done it. "Who did this to you?" There was no possible way that someone could sustain so many bruises and scrapes from minor casualties such as tripping or running into something. Someone was hurting her, and I couldn't help but need to know who—it wasn't what I considered being nosy. To me, it was wanting to help a friend.  
"Don't worry about it," Rima muttered, tugging her sleeve back down. "It's nothing that I'm not used to." The words told me things that I'd rather not have known—that this had been going on for a while. Rima had been hiding these injuries, and carrying the burden of a huge secret on her tiny shoulders for God-knows-how-long. The thought scared me, and I stared directly at her, my eyes serious.

"Rima," I said, and my voice was no less serious than my eyes, which remained locked with hers. "Who did this to you?"

There was a moment's hesitation, and her eyes flickered away from mine. I could see that she was trying to come up with a story; she was trying to think up a believable lie. I repeated the question, and she finally looked back at me. After several more agonizing seconds, she whispered, "My parents..."


	3. I'll Tell Only You

Now I'd done it. My biggest secret had finally been exposed. I had hoped that once I'd told someone, I wouldn't be so stressed. But although the burden of the secret had been lifted, it was replaced by something heavier; somehow, the only person I'd ended up telling was my enemy, and that knowledge made me feel worse than I already had.

I suddenly felt like I was going to cry again—this was _not _what I had wanted to happen. The two words that had revealed what I'd been hiding for most of my life hung in the air between the two of us. The only thing that broke the deafening silence was the light dripping of one of the sinks across from us; I closed my eyes and focused on that to keep myself from bursting into tears again. I also focused my attention on Nagihiko's gentle hand, still resting on my back, though part of me knew that it shouldn't be there to begin with.

Though I didn't like the silence, I didn't want it to end. I wasn't about to say anything—if I led him to believe that I wanted to talk, he would start asking questions. Most likely questions that I did not, under any circumstances, want to answer.

The lack of sound made it easier to think, and I wondered what my chances were of running out of the bathroom and off of the school campus before me caught up to me. I had to admit, they weren't good. I wasn't what anyone would call a fast runner, due to my short legs, and I figured that the odds of even getting out of the bathroom were not in my favor.

Taking a different approach, I wondered if he might just get up and leave. The way things were going right now, I decided that I had a betted chance at running away.

"Rima-chan..." I'd known that since I hadn't broken the silence, he was going to. But I'd been hoping for a little more time. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" His voice was hesitant, as if he thought that asking the question might cause me to start sobbing—again.

I ignored the question for what seemed like forever, but he didn't pry, as I'd expected him to. I'd heard that talking about these kinds of things made them better, but I wasn't a fool. There was no way that making myself look like an idiot was going to help with this particular situation. I knew this, yet I was just so desperate to remove the weight from my chest that I couldn't help but wonder if, just this once, I could try to talk.

I didn't have an answer as to why I hadn't told anyone. I wasn't scared, I wasn't embarrassed. I'd simply decided to put up with my problems on my own. Since I didn't have any logical reasoning, I muttered, "Next..."

There was a moment of silence before his soft voice inquired, "How long?"

I wasn't sure how to answer, so I whispered, "Long enough." I then decided that this was too broad for an answer. "About a year, maybe..."

Nagihiko didn't ask another question, so there was another long period where neither of us spoke. A few moments later, he asked "Why?" This time, it was the question instead of the answer that was too vague. It was a question that even I didn't have the answer to, and a question that I'd grown tired of after asking myself the same thing for so long.

This question-and-answer session was going nowhere fast, so I decided that I would answer his "why" question after all. Although there was no clear answer that I could give, I knew that enough could be explained by just telling him my story.

"When I was small, I always made people laugh. My parents and I were happy, and I was glad that I was able to make them smile. But I was young and naïve. Sometimes things happen that change your life, and no matter how hard you try, you can't change it back. I wanted so badly to change it back... To go back to the way things were before that day."

Nagihiko listened to me, though I was positive that I wasn't making much sense. So I took a deep breath before beginning my explanation. "I was almost kidnapped when I was little. It didn't turn out badly in the end—I was found quickly. But instead of being happy that their daughter was safe, my parents ignored my completely... They blamed each other for what happened, and it wasn't long before the smallest disagreements were able to spark the worst fights."

I didn't want to continue—it was like reliving the entire ordeal, scene by painful scene, in a slow motion that I couldn't fast-forward. But now that I'd started, I couldn't leave the rest untold, no matter now much it hurt to go on.

"All I wanted was to go back to the way things used to be. I tried so hard to make them smile again, but it was like they'd forgotten I was there. The only thing left was their hatred for each other. The fights continued, and I was lucky to see a day that one didn't break out. When I was small, I was scared to do anything—I hated the way they fought, but I couldn't stop it. And as I got older, the severity of the fighting escalated."

I took another deep breath before continuing. Telling the story like this was so painful, and it was difficult not to cry. "The yelling and name-calling turned to physical abuse. Things were knocked off of shelves and broken, and sometimes objects were thrown around purposely. I always hid in my room, crying while they shouted at each other and hurt each other. I didn't understand why they couldn't just be happy..."

By now, it was getting hard to talk. The lump in my throat was impossible to swallow, and tears were collecting in my eyes. "I couldn't stand it anymore... I was angry at them for ruining the happy family we had been. I tried to stop the fighting—I would shout too, and when they ignored me, I tried to push them away from each other. That was when they started hurting me, too. They cared about nothing but their hatred for each other. Not even their own daughter..."

I couldn't hold it in anymore. Hot tears slid down my cheeks and my shoulders started to shake violently as I cried. Telling all this had broken down the barrier I'd used to protect myself from the hurtful memories, and the pain was hitting me full-force.

Suddenly, a pair of gentle arms wrapped around me and the hand that had been on my back started to comfortingly stroke and caress my hair. Inside, I knew that this was wrong—this boy and I were rivals. I didn't like him, and most times, I couldn't stand to be around him. But the way I was feeling at this moment, I needed someone; and he, of all people, happened to be there.

Against my better judgment, I let myself be hugged and petted like a frightened kitten. I let myself be rocked back and forth like a small child. I let everything go; everything I'd been holding in for so long came tumbling out as the tears that cascaded down my cheeks. I didn't like crying like this, especially in front of someone—but he didn't seem to mind. Nagihiko just hugged me gently and continued petting my hair while I rid myself of the tears that had been bottled up for so long. And I let him.

Even when, at last, the trembling of my shoulders ceased and the tears slowed, he didn't let me go. I didn't have the strength to move, as I'd exhausted myself with the sudden outburst of emotion. I focused on taking deep breaths while leaning limply against his chest.

There was one thing that, strangely enough, I found funny, although I didn't have the energy needed to laugh. How ironic it was that, of all the people that could've found me crying in the restroom, it had to be him? Why was it that, if Yaya, Tadase, or even Amu had been the one to find me, I would have lied? I knew myself well enough to realize that I wouldn't have told anyone what I had just told this boy, who just so happened to be my enemy. In a twisted way, it was funny that he was the only one that could've made me tell. And even though I couldn't laugh, I found the strength to smile.

Nagihiko looked down at me, and I looked back up at him. There was a short silence, and in that time I was able to sort out my thoughts. I did not want anyone to know about my problem—Nagihiko knowing was one person too many, though I did not necessarily regret telling him. I didn't even want Amu knowing, though there were usually no secrets between us.

There was also something else, and this was what I voiced to the boy that was still hugging me like a stuffed toy. Looking up at him, I erased all traces of anything but seriousness from my voice. "No one, and I mean _no one_, hears of this. Got it?" I said, indicating the way I was laying against him, with his arms around me.

Nagihiko nodded, and let out a small chuckle. Then his eyes grew serious again. "Rima-chan," he made sure I was looking at him before continuing. "Everything's going to be okay..."

And the way he said it, at that moment, I started to feel just a little hope. I started to think that, just maybe, everything _would _be.


	4. Stalemate

After some time, I was able to calm down; I was finally able to stop crying altogether, and it wasn't as difficult to breathe. Brushing the last of the tears away from my cheeks, I attempted to stand. My legs were shaky, and it wasn't hard to understand why; I was physically and emotionally exhausted from my episode, and nothing sounded better at the moment than going home and crawling into bed.

Seeing my difficulty at staying in an upright position, Nagihiko stood as well, keeping his hand on my back. "I'm alright," I assured him, though it didn't sound convincing in the slightest.

"I'm walking you home," he stated boldly, and I stopped thinking for a fraction of a second—Nagihiko was not usually the type to assert himself, and it caught me off-guard.

As soon as I got over the initial shock, my immediate instinct was to protest. "You don't need to walk me home," I tried to make my voice as firm as his, but the weariness was too evident in the way I talked. If anything, that only made him more determined, which made me more annoyed. I didn't like depending on other people to begin with.

Nagihiko looked down at me—he was the tallest of the Guardians, and I didn't like standing next to him, as it only made me feel even shorter. "Rima, I'm walking you home. You're exhausted—don't say you aren't, because I can tell when you lie—" I had opened my mouth to deny my tired state just as he'd said this, so I shut it again in frustration. "If you pass out or something in the middle of the street, I'm not taking responsibility if you get hit by a car. So deal with it."

Any affection or gratitude that I had acquired for Nagihiko in the time that he'd comforted me vanished at that moment. Now I remembered why we argued so much in the first place: the little—sadly much taller than I—idiot just _loved _to get on my nerves.

I glared, and he stared back at me evenly. He wasn't going to break, I could tell. But I wasn't going to give in, either. I continued to glare angrily at him, and he met my gaze with his own, not wavering in the slightest. At that moment, it occurred to me that if anyone had ever wondered who would win a staring contest between Fujisaki Nagihiko and Mashiro Rima, they now had their answer: no one. This was a stalemate.

Resisting the urge to yell at him to "blink already, damn you," I continued to glare while asking, "Do I have any say in this at all?"

To my dismay, the question didn't break his concentration at all. So he continued to stare back at me while giving a short, simple reply. "None."

The staring match continued, and the longer he held out, the more annoyed I became. Thirty more seconds passed, then a minute. Then two. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, and I gave up. We both blinked at the same time. "Stalemate," I muttered, and he laughed.

Nagihiko still insisted on walking me home, despite my annoyed—and rather loud—protests. "Relax, Rima. It's not going to kill you." He had it the wrong way—he would be lucky to _get _me home before _I _killed _him._ I was determined to hold my ground, so even when he started to leave the bathroom, I stayed stubbornly rooted to the spot at which I was standing.

He walked back to me and looked at me for a second or two, then smirked. "Am I going to have to carry you?" He sounded like he meant it, and that was not something I wanted to risk. I had the ominous feeling that if he picked me up, he wouldn't put me down until he got to my house—no matter how much screaming and flailing ensued.

"No!" I yelped, and started walking. Sadly, my legs were still a bit wobbly, and I lost my balance, pitching forward. I didn't fall far before Nagihiko's arm wrapped securely around my waist. Before I had time to think that I would have rather hit the floor, he had righted my position and let go of me. I wondered if he just didn't want to make me uncomfortable—it was strange that I _did_ feel uncomfortable, especially because he'd been hugging me not fifteen minutes ago.

I muttered a quick "thank you," and he looked just a little worried.

"Maybe I should carry you anyway," he suggested, and the concerned frown turned into a devious grin. I glared at him and headed toward the bathroom's exit, doing the best I could to keep my balance. I halted so suddenly that Nagihiko, who was following behind, nearly collided with me.

"What is it?" he asked, and I could tell that he was just the slightest bit irritated. If anyone had the right to be irritated, it was me.

"How do we avoid being seen walking out of the girls' bathroom?" I asked in a tone that stated that he was missing the obvious. "Won't that be a little odd, especially because you're a guy? Although I'm sure most of the students can't tell the difference anyway," I added innocently.

"Very funny, Einstein." Nagihiko, sadly, didn't seem too annoyed by my remark. I wasn't sure how his comments managed to irk me so much, but mine hardly left a scratch on his much-too-large ego. I also wasn't sure why his voice held the same "you're missing the most obvious thing in the world" tone that I'd been using earlier. "Have you forgotten that everyone's already gone home?" He glanced at his wrist, and I suddenly wondered when Nagihiko had started wearing a watch. "Actually, it's pretty late."

I hadn't realized how much time had elapsed since I'd taken refuge in the bathroom, and I was suddenly alarmed. What if one of my parents had come to pick me up, and then I hadn't shown? What if they were searching for me? I frantically took my cell phone out of my pocket—if this was the case, I would've received a text message or something. However, there were no signs that my parents had tried to contact me at all.

"Come on, let's get you home," Nagihiko said, and I nodded, following him out of the restroom. The halls were deserted, as he had said—even the teachers had gone home. Our footsteps echoed through the empty school, and I began to worry that we may be locked in, since no one was there.

However, when we reached the exit, the door was unlocked and I breathed a sigh of relief—at least I wouldn't have to spend the night at the school. Outside, the sun was already starting to set, causing the trees to cast long shadows on the sidewalks. It was very quiet.

Thankfully, I didn't live too far from the school, and I'd walked the distance before. Setting off in the direction of my house, I shot a sideways glance at Nagihiko, who was walking silently beside me, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "You really don't have to walk me home," I insisted, giving one last, futile attempt at making him change his mind.

"I suppose I don't," he said, and I suddenly felt a little bit of hope that he might leave me alone and let me go by myself. It was short-lived, as he continued, "But I'm going to anyway." I was too annoyed to decide if he really meant well by taking me home, or if he just wanted to get on my nerves.

We walked in silence for several minutes; the only sounds were our light footsteps against the sidewalk and the occasional call of a bird. I was just getting used to the lack of dialogue when Nagihiko spoke up. "Rima-chan, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you..."

Despite the fact that I was extremely late getting home and needed to do so as soon as possible, I stopped walking. He did so as well and looked down at me. "Well, we're pretty close to my house, and you won't get find out very much in the time it takes to get there," I said. "And we can't just stand here and talk—I have to get home." I found the contradiction between my words and actions funny.

Nagihiko nodded, and his expression turned thoughtful for a moment. He said nothing else as he started to walk again, so I followed him. After a moment or two of familiar silence, he said, "We can talk tonight."

Resisting the urge to stop walking again, I looked up at him. His expression remained blank as he stared ahead, and I tilted my head in confusion. "What do you mean?" I still wasn't used to the fact that my voice sounded too loud compared to the quiet of the evening.

He didn't say anything, and I shrugged. Looking away from him, I realized that we'd finally reached our destination. I stopped, and Nagihiko looked back at me questioningly. "This is it," I said, indicating the house behind me, and he smiled. Although I hadn't wanted him to walk me home from the beginning, I found that I was somewhat glad that he'd ended up doing it, even if it was against my will.

Nagihiko smiled at me, and then ruffled my hair, causing me to glare up at him. "Don't do that..." I muttered, and he laughed. One of these days, I was going to smack him.

"Rima-chan," he said, and I looked up at him through my blonde bangs, which he'd succeeded in messing up. "Remember what I said. Everything's going to be alright." He appeared to be trying to reassure me, so I nodded.

"Thanks," I murmured. "For listening to me... And for walking me home." As much as I hated to admit it, I knew that if Nagihiko hadn't shown up, I'd probably still be sobbing like a frightened child in the girls' bathroom at the school. And even though we weren't the best of friends, I still felt immensely grateful.

He smiled and nodded, and I turned and walked quickly up the walkway to my front door. Maybe, I thought, just maybe, Nagihiko wasn't such a bad guy after all. Just as I lifted my hand to turn the doorknob, I heard my name from behind me. Turning around, I saw that Nagihiko was still standing where I'd left him.

"Hey, Rima-chan?" he called, and I tilted my head in acknowledgement, wondering what it was that he wanted to say. He grinned and started to walk away, but not before he called, "You blinked first!"


	5. If I Were A Bird

I regretted coming home as soon as I walked in the door; shouts could be heard from the next room, and I could only guess what my parents were fighting about this time. Not wanting to get involved, I called a simple, "I'm home!" before heading for the stairs leading up to my room.

When they heard my voice, the yelling ceased momentarily, then escalated. "You forgot to pick her up?!" My mother's harsh, angry voice hissed, followed by a sharp retort from my father.

"It was your turn! You never remember to go get her!"

I retreated up the stairs and took refuge in my room before I could hear anymore. Slamming my door behind me in frustration, I flopped down on my bed with a huge sigh. I wanted to cry. I would've cried. But I felt as if I'd used up all my tears earlier, at the school. Lying down on my bed, I curled myself into a tight ball, hugging my knees to my chest, and closed my eyes.

I hated the way they constantly fought—hated the way it was always about me. They would always say how much of a burden I was, how much of a hassle it was for them to take care of me. I wondered why they'd even decided to have a child in the first place, if they wanted nothing to do with her.

I reminded myself that we had been happy, once. I tried to tell myself that it was because of the kidnapping that the happiness had been destroyed. But it was difficult not to be angry at my parents—why had they abandoned me in the time that I'd really needed them? Why, instead of fighting, hadn't they worked as a team the way parents should to make everything better? Wasn't it their job to comfort their child, and to tell her that everything would be okay?

These were questions that I asked myself every day—every single time they fought, I would lie on my bed and become consumed by my own thoughts. Sometimes hours would pass and I would not move, letting the questions pass through my mind, one by one, each without an answer.

Sometimes I would finally sit up, only to find that the quilt upon my bed was soaked with the tears I had been unaware of shedding. Other times, I would open my eyes and find that the night had passed without me knowing, and then I wondered if I had fallen asleep, or simply lay there, suffering in silence until morning.

The shouted strings of profanities had ceased, though I knew that the argument was still raging downstairs; I was just too caught up in my confusion and misery to listen. When this happened, I blocked everything out; I couldn't hear, my body was numb, I didn't feel the need to eat or use the restroom. All I did was think.

This time was no different; though my body was useless and limp, my mind was racing. Another question would interrupt my contemplation of the one before it, then be gone before I could try to find the answer to it. In this state, time meant nothing. Hours could have passed, or only a few moments; maybe only a second had gone by, but I couldn't tell how long would elapse before the questions finally stopped.

I didn't want to move, fearing that I would break the trance I had put myself in. The silence, though I knew it wasn't real, was peaceful. I didn't have to listen to the anger-filled shouts from downstairs, and I could think without any interruption. Though my eyes remained closed, I knew that I wouldn't fall asleep.

_What if I were a bird? _The question was unexpected, though it had come from my own mind. _Would I fly away? _This was a question that I knew the answer to: yes, if I were a bird, I would fly away. I would leave all the pain behind and start over. I would get as far away from this place as possible; away from the anger, the sadness, and the constant confusion. I would forget all my troubles and be free.

_But would I really be happy? _This one confused me; of course I would be happy—I would be able to forget all about my old life. If I didn't have to suffer anymore, why wouldn't I be happy?

_I wouldn't really forget, _I thought, _I'd just be shutting it out. I wouldn't know where to go, or what to do. If I left my life behind, I wouldn't know how to start over. Even if I abandoned what my life is like now, the pain and the misery would never truly go away. And I would be lonely. _I knew that this was true—I wouldn't be able to forget the suffering I'd endured for so long. And right now, even if I didn't have my parents, I had my friends. They would be with me, even if no one else was.

For so long, all I'd wanted was to get away. I'd been so consumed by the anger and sadness that all I could think of was escaping to somewhere where there was no pain. I knew that such a place did not exist—every person's life has rough patches, though some have it worse than others. The sadness was what made us cherish the better things that we had. For me, the good things in life were my friends—and I'd been thinking about leaving them behind.

_If I were a bird, would I fly away? _If I ran away from my problems, I would never really know if, in the end, they were resolved. What if the fighting eventually stopped? What if my parents leaned to get along again? If I took the easy way out, I would never know if it was possible for us to be a happy family again.

I finally understood something that I'd never been able to realize before. Somehow, a strange question had led to an epiphany, which didn't often happen. _If I were a bird... _I thought to myself, my eyes still closed. _I would stay in my nest._

I opened my eyes, and with my sight came the angry sound of shouts and swears. But it didn't seem as important to me now—I knew that things wouldn't get better instantly, but I was able to hope that with enough effort, they could go back to the way they used to be.

Sitting up, I opened my schoolbag and found my homework—even after my realization, there was no way that I was going to go downstairs and risk stepping into the warzone. So I decided that the best way to pass the time would be to get the homework out of the way; it was almost completely dark outside now, and the moon was starting to come up.

By the time I had finished the worksheets and stuffed them back into my bag, the stars were twinkling brightly outside my window, and a pale half-moon hung in the sky. Even though an hour or so had gone by, the racket in the living room hadn't diminished at all. My stomach growled, and I decided that I would attempt to get to the kitchen to find something to snack on.

Padding lightly down the stairs, I flinched—the yelling hadn't been so loud through my bedroom door, but down here, with nothing to muffle the sound, it was much, much worse. I snuck quickly past the entrance to the living room, but I knew that there was no real reason to be cautious; a freight train or a tornado could've passed through the living room without my parents noticing.

Reaching my destination, I searched through the refrigerator for something to eat. There wasn't much to choose from, and in the end I ended up making myself some instant ramen as I had done countless times before when mother was too busy yelling to cook dinner. For someone the size of a second grader, I had a big appetite. I ended up polishing off two cups of instant ramen before heading back upstairs, dodging past the warzone that was our living room.

Now that I had eaten, I was a little sleepy. Glancing at the clock on my desk, I found that it was nearly ten o'clock. Shuffling over to a small chest of drawers, I found a light, cream-colored nightgown with ruffles around the bottom. Feeling a little paranoid, I walked over to the window and pulled the curtain closed, even though my room was on the second floor.

I took off my school uniform and donned the nightgown, then proceeded to fold my uniform neatly before setting it at the foot of my bed. Grabbing a hairbrush, I set to work on the impossible task of getting the tangles out of my chaotic mess of blonde curls.

While attempting to yank the brush through my hair, I remembered what Nagihiko had said before he'd left. I was still confused about the whole thing—what had he meant when he'd said, "we'll talk tonight?" At first, I'd figured that he meant that he'd call me. But he didn't have my phone number, unless Amu had given it to him without me knowing, which was unlikely.

Even if he did have my phone number, I doubted that he'd bother calling at ten-thirty at night. So now I hadn't the slightest clue what he'd meant, and just thinking about it made my head hurt—Nagihiko just didn't make sense.

At last, I was able to finish combing out my hair, and I wondered idly how much of it I'd managed to pull out in the process. Not giving it any more thought, I left my room and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

By the time I was ready for bed, it was eleven. I pulled back the covers and got into bed, exhausted from the day's events. Resting my head against the soft, warm pillow, I closed my eyes, knowing that it wouldn't take very long to fall asleep. However, a sudden sound made me open them again. I sat up, wondering where the soft _tap _had come from.

I looked around my room, and everything was silent. I shrugged and laid back down, figuring it was just my imagination, running wild from lack of sleep. _Tap. _I sat up again, and this time I was scared. I had been able to pinpoint that the sound was coming from my window, and I wondered what could possibly be hitting it, since it was on the second floor. _Tap. _I was frightened—not of monsters, as I was no child. But for a girl who was nearly kidnapped, someone tapping on your second-story window can be more than a little scary.

I wanted to leave the room, to go get one of my parents. But they were both still fighting downstairs, and I was more scared of them than I was of what was outside. So I summoned all the courage in my tiny body and got out of bed, approaching the window cautiously.

I gripped the edge of the curtain in my fist. _Tap. _Another impact against the glass made me flinch, and before I could lose my nerve, I jerked the curtain back and stared at the window. Nothing. Only the black night, the shining stars, and the luminous moon shining its pale light on my confused face. I didn't replace the curtain. Instead, I waited, staring out into the darkness.

_Tap! _A small stone bounced off my window and fell back to the ground. I looked down, but I couldn't see too clearly in the darkness. However, I was able to make out a familiar silhouette standing underneath my window. The silhouette had long hair.


	6. Late Night Visitor

I was absolutely positive that I had the right house, but the longer I stood there in the darkness, the more I began to think that I'd chosen the wrong window. The curtain didn't even shift, and I thought to myself that either Rima was ignoring me, or she thought I was some kind of creeper.

Bending down, I picked up another small stone, turning it over in my hands. The impatient, rash part of me was starting to think that it would be much quicker to chuck a larger rock at the window and shatter the glass completely. However, I knew that this plan, though efficient, would not have a good ending.

Letting out a sigh, I sent the little stone through the air, watching it hit the second-story window with a light _tap _before falling back to the ground. I waited, but nothing happened. The curtain remained draped over the glass from inside, not fluttering in the slightest.

Annoyed, I glared up at the glass as if it had insulted me. If Rima had heard the stones hitting her window, wouldn't she have at least peeked outside to see who was there? Frustrated, I decided to try one last time; if this didn't work, I would move on to a different window, as I was not the type of person to give up easily. Some would call it persistence—others, stupidity. Either way, I wasn't leaving any time soon.

Picking up another stone, this time a bit larger than the previous ones, I took a deep breath. As soon as the rock left my hand, I flinched—my frustration had caused me to throw the rock a little harder than necessary, and I was afraid that this, along with the larger size of the stone, might do some damage to her window.

Thankfully, the rock bounced off and fell to the ground without any casualties. Almost immediately after, the lilac-colored curtain shifted and was pulled to the side. There was no mistaking the small, round face that peeked out at me. So I hadn't been wrong after all—for that, I was grateful. But I couldn't help but wonder what had taken so long for her to investigate the sound of the stones impacting on the glass.

Although it was dark out, the light from inside her room made it fairly easy to see her—so I couldn't help but laugh when her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed bright red as she shoved open the window. "What are you doing here?!" Rima screeched, glaring at me from above.

I was about to shush her—I had no idea what would happen if her parents found out that I was here, but I knew that the consequences would be severe. However, with the window open, I could hear a series of muffled shouts and a string of profanities, which I assumed were coming from the floor below her bedroom. Somehow, I had the feeling that Rima's parents were too preoccupied to care about their daughter's late-night visitor.

"Good evening, Rima-chan," I said casually, grinning up at her, only causing her blush to deepen. "I'm here, as promised."

"You never said you were coming to my house!" she squeaked, and I stifled a laugh. "What are you, some kind of creeper?!" I'd seen that one coming, so the insult didn't have much of an effect. "You're like that lovesick stalker, Romeo, spying on Juliet from the bushes under her balcony!" This was a new one—Rima was getting more creative.

Unfortunately for her, I was also creative. And I was born with the ability to conjure up a witty comeback in a split second. This was going to be fun. Looking up at Rima, I grinned. "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? For it is the East, and Rima's in her jammies," I said, taking notice of the nightgown she'd put on.

Rima blushed furiously and glared down at me. "Shut up, you psychotic stalker!" She was repeating insults now—I was starting to think that after tonight, "Stalker" would be my new nickname. To Rima's credit, she'd used a new adjective, though I didn't think that I could really be considered "psychotic" in anyone's book. Well, maybe during a character change...

"Seriously, Rima," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "I told you that we'd talk tonight, so why did you decide to get ready for bed?" It was mostly my fault, because I hadn't really clarified what "talk to you tonight" had meant.

She shouted my own thoughts down at me loudly, her cheeks bright crimson. "Because you didn't say that you were going to show up at my house at midnight!"

I hung my head in mock shame. "You're right, Rima-chan," I said, playing the part with my voice as well. "It's my fault—I'm sorry."

Rima blinked and tilted her head to the side, confusion evident on her face. Taking advantage of this, I smiled up at her and said, "Hey, I'll be stopping by your house around midnight tonight. Oh look," I pointed at myself and grinned. "There I am." I was fairly sure that if it had been anyone else, the girl in the window would've laughed. But this was Rima, the girl that did not laugh at anything I did—even if it was downright hilarious. All my efforts to get her to crack a smile were rewarded with an eye roll and a large, exaggerated sigh.

"Why are you here?" she asked, and I decided that this could be translated as, "You shouldn't be standing on my lawn at midnight and I suggest you leave before I call the police."

Returning the eye roll and sigh, I looked up at her. "Haven't we already established that I'm here to talk, as planned?" I thought I heard her mutter, "It wasn't planned at all..." or something along those lines, but I ignored it.

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Rima barked, and I stifled a giggle at the thought that she sounded like an angry Pomeranian. The first comparison had been "angry Chihuahua," but Pomeranians were cuter, and fluffier. And more dangerous.

"Well, I don't think I can climb up there," I stated the obvious. "So you'll have to come down here."

Rima stared at me as if I'd lost what little sanity she'd thought I had. "Are you crazy? My parents—"

"Somehow, I don't think they'll notice," I said quietly, and in the silence that followed between Rima and I, her parents could be heard arguing downstairs.

Rima looked indecisive, and I was starting to fear that she would refuse to come down, and that I wouldn't get to talk to her at all. She studied the windowsill for several moments, then looked at me. "Let me change first," she called softly, but her eyes held a stern look.

"No, I expect you to come outside in your pajamas," I said sarcastically, and she glared.

"Stay," she ordered, and just to get on her nerves, I barked at her. If I'd had a tail, it would've wagged.

Several minutes later, Rima appeared in the window again—this time, wearing a light blue blouse and a knee-length white skirt. Glaring down at me again, she let out a sigh. "Alright, so how is this going to work?" she inquired, attempting to calculate the distance from her window the ground below. She looked nervous.

"Well, you could take the front door," I suggested. From all the yelling going on in the living room, I figured that it wouldn't make a difference if Rima walked right out the door in front of her parents. But she wasn't going to risk that, and I knew it. She ignored my comment completely, still looking at the ground.

"The only thing you can do is jump," I told her, and her head snapped up.

"No!" she exclaimed, looking absolutely horrified that I would even suggest such a thing. "I'm not suicidal! I'm not jumping out a two-story window!" Her desperate refusal led me to the conclusion that Rima was afraid of heights. Or of falling. Or both. I waited for her shouts to die down before looking up at her.

"Rima, don't worry. I'll catch you." Sadly, this did not comfort or reassure her in the way that I'd hoped. If anything, it had the opposite effect. Her face flushed bright pink and she shook her head furiously, her golden curls bouncing around.

"No!" The single word was powerful enough to tell me that it was going to take some serious convincing to get her to jump.

"Rima-chan, what exactly are you afraid of?" I asked, trying to be empathetic and take her feelings into account.

She stared at me, and suddenly the arrogance was back in her eyes; when she spoke, her voice dripped with it. "Afraid? Oh, no. I'm not afraid at all. I'd just love to jump out a two-story window, fall, hit the ground, break my leg, etcetera." Rima was the Queen's Chair of the Guardians—she was the Queen of Sarcasm as well. But I could understand where she was coming from.

"I said I'd catch you," I reminded her, failing once again to reassure her in any way. Rima was being difficult.

"You'd probably drop me!" she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at me as if I'd stolen her diary.

Her words stung, and I did my best not to flinch. "Rima-chan..." I said quietly, my voice coming out quieter than I would've liked. "You don't trust me?" I hated the way that I sounded like a sad child that'd just been scolded by his mother, but maybe that might get through to her. At least I wasn't pulling the puppy-dog face like Tadase had tried to do to get me to join the Guardians. I looked up at her, and I hoped that I didn't look _too _sad. "After everything that's happened? After everything you've told me, you still don't trust me?"

For once in her life, Rima sounded unsure. "T-that's not it..." she said quietly, but she made no move whatsoever that indicated that she had decided to jump. Instead, she just stared down at the ground, not meeting my gaze.

I didn't know what I would do if I didn't talk to her now, because it was impossible to talk to her about this at school. I decided that I would make one last attempt—if this didn't work, I couldn't do anything. I exhaled in a gusty sigh and let my shoulders sag a bit in defeat. "I understand..." I said quietly, looking up at Rima with a small, sad smile. "If you don't want to talk to me, I won't force you." I turned my back to her and started to walk away, casting a glance over my shoulder. "I'll see you later, Rima-chan."

I kept walking, forcing myself not to look back—my desperate attempt had failed miserably; if she hadn't called out to stop me by now, she wasn't going to. I had almost reached the gate when I heard her voice, and though it was quiet, I was able to make out what she said. "Do you promise to catch me?"

I stopped walking, but I didn't turn around or say anything. After a few seconds, she called again. "Do you?" I turned around and looked up at Rima, nodding.

"I won't let you get hurt," I murmured, and I realized that the words had a double meaning to them. "You can trust me." I walked back and stood under her window, looking up at her.

Still looking indecisive, Rima opened her window further and sat down on the windowsill, swinging her legs over the edge so that they dangled outside. She stared down at me, and I could tell that she was frightened. "It's alright, Rima-chan," I assured her, and she closed her eyes tightly before sliding over the edge of the windowsill.

I caught her easily, holding her bridal style—she was so small, and she didn't weigh very much. When she opened her eyes, she didn't look at me. Instead, she stared at her knees, her cheeks rosy red. "This is embarrassing," she muttered, and I let out a soft chuckle before setting her on her feet. Rima smoothed out her skirt and looked at me. "Thank you," she said curtly, and I smiled.

Rima looked around; I guessed that it was around 12:30, and she'd probably never been out of her house this late. "Where are we going?" she asked, turning to me and tilting her head.

"Just taking a walk," I replied, and she nodded. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it was a little awkward. Rima stared at the ground, still blushing, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Nagihiko," she said quietly, and looked up at me seriously. "I know why you called me out here, and I know there's a lot you want to ask..." She didn't seem hesitant at all, and I figured that after telling me what she already had, I was the only person she could talk to about it. I nodded silently.

"There are a lot of things I was wondering about..." I admitted, wondering if I was coming across as nosy.

"Don't worry about it," she suddenly said. "You're not prying—I'd want to know, too." At times, I honestly wondered if the petite little blonde could read my mind. Either that, or my facial expressions were extremely obvious—both of those were scary thoughts to have.

"Alright," Rima took a deep breath and stared directly at me. "First question?"


	7. Interrogation

Nagihiko just couldn't seem to decide which question to ask first—I wasn't sure whether he was just being indecisive, or if he was trying to avoid asking something that might make me upset or uncomfortable. He'd been silent for a while now, staring down at his feet as he walked, lost in thought.  
"Nagihiko," I said softly, and my voice seemed to jolt him awake. He looked up, confused.

"Did you say something?" he asked hesitantly, sounding as if he was afraid that I was going to yell at him.

Though my patience with Nagihiko was thin, I met his gaze evenly with my own and stated calmly, "You said you wanted to talk." I didn't think I'd ever heard him this quiet, which was ironic, since he'd been the one wanting to hold a conversation.

He was silent for a moment more, then murmured, "I do have questions, but..." He bit his lip and glanced away from me, and I held back a sigh.

"If I didn't plan to answer your questions, do you think I would've come with you?" I asked, but my tone wasn't arrogant. "I've already told you so much. It makes me feel just a little better to talk with someone. Please don't disappoint me by telling me that I jumped out my bedroom window for nothing." I managed a small smile.

After another short silence, Nagihiko turned to look at me. "How long?" I could tell that he was starting off with something easy—something that wouldn't cause me to get emotional, which I hoped I wouldn't do even when he started asking more in-depth questions.

"You'll have to be more specific," I answered automatically. "How long since the fighting started, or how long since I got involved?"

There was no hesitance this time when he responded, "both."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, then opened them again before I could trip or run into anything. "I was nearly kidnapped about two years ago," I informed him quietly. "They didn't manage to pull it off though—I was rescued quickly..." I had told him this already, earlier that day in the girls' bathroom at the school. But I decided that it would be best to start at the beginning. "My mother and father blamed the incident on one another. They both felt that it was the other's fault, and that they hadn't been watching me properly."

Nagihiko listened intently, nodding his head every now and then. Even when he wasn't looking directly at me, I could tell that he was listening to every word I said.

"They started arguing about everything—the smallest disagreement would spark a fight, and the subject of my kidnapping would always come up, making the fighting even worse. I tried to stop them from shouting at each other, but they would ignore me. So I always hid in my room. I could hear things being thrown around, and it always scared me."

"And when did it escalate to you getting hurt as well?" Nagihiko's voice was gentle, and still slightly hesitant, like he didn't want to pry.

"Like I said, that was two years ago," I said quietly. "When I got a little older, I became sick and tired of the constant shouting and swearing. I hated the way that no one could be happy in my household anymore. So about eight months ago, I decided to try to intervene. I no longer hid in my room like a frightened child—I tried to break in and stop their quarrels."

I stopped talking for a short time, because at that moment, I could feel the tears threatening to spill over. I had promised myself that I wouldn't cry. Nagihiko shot a worried glance at me, obviously wondering why I had paused. "Are you alright?" he asked cautiously, and I nodded, blinking the tears away.

"At first, I tried shouting over them, trying to get them to hear me. I thought that if they would stop, just for a moment, that I'd be able to tell them how I felt. I thought that I would be able to let them know how much I disliked their constant hatred of one another, and that I just wanted everyone to get along again. But my mother and father ignored me completely—so consumed by their anger that they'd forgotten that they even had a daughter to begin with. Even though it was my kidnapping that had started the fights, and even though it was concern for me that was the root of the problem, they acted as if I wasn't there. It was like they'd completely forgotten what they were angry about in the first place. They were just fighting to be fighting."

Nagihiko was silent beside me, letting my words sink in one by one. I took another deep breath to keep myself from crying and continued, "If the arguments got too bad and turned physical, I would try to stop it. Even though I knew I was too small to make a difference, I was desperate enough to get in the way of the blows they aimed at each other, resulting in the injuries you've seen." I examined my own arm, no longer covered by the long sleeves of my school uniform. My skin was pale under the illuminating moonlight, but the various dark purple bruises scattered across it were unmistakable.

I was silent, and I looked up at him, indicating that he could move on to a different question. After a second or two, he inquired, "What kinds of things do they fight about? What causes the arguments?"

I let out a dark little laugh. "Everything," I stated truthfully. "Sometimes, I'm not sure of the exact cause—they were fighting when I got home this evening, so I have no clue what sparked it. But usually it starts over something stupid, like my mother dropping a dish on the floor and breaking it. They fight over who takes me to school and who picks me up. It doesn't take much to set them off."

When I looked up at Nagihiko, he looked completely shocked. But he quickly composed his facial expression when he saw that I was looking. "How long do the quarrels usually last?" he questioned, changing the subject.

I shrugged. "It depends," I replied. "Sometimes they don't last too long, but other times they go on for hours. You heard them when I opened my window, correct?" He nodded, and I noticed him hide a shiver, though it wasn't cold outside. "Well, they'd been at that since before I came home from school."

There was a long silence, and I looked around; we'd been walking for a while now and I had absolutely no idea where we were, as I'd been too busy talking to pay much attention to where my feet were leading me. Really, I'd mostly been following Nagihiko, and now I was alarmed by the fact that my surroundings were so unfamiliar.

Noticing the apparent distress on my face, Nagihiko smiled warmly. "Don't worry, we're not lost," he assured me, succeeding in calming me down a little. "I know where we are." I was relieved by this, so I was able to relax a bit.

I noticed that Nagihiko looked extremely uncomfortable, and I figured that he had another question. By the look on his face, it was something he was afraid to ask. "Nagihiko," I whispered, and he turned his head to look at me. "Don't be afraid to ask a question. I won't get upset."

He didn't look the slightest bit convinced, and his big, brown eyes were hesitant. "Rima," he started, but cut himself off, unsure whether he wanted to ask me something or not. After a moment's hesitance, he let out a gusty sigh and asked slowly, "Do your parents ever hit you on purpose? Even when you aren't trying to get between them?"

Not meaning to, I flinched. The question wasn't unreasonable, and I wasn't angry or upset that he'd asked, but I hadn't been expecting something quite like that, though I didn't blame him for wanting to know. I hoped Nagihiko hadn't seen my involuntary reaction, or at least if he had, that he wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, and I flinched again—Nagihiko didn't usually raise his voice, and it sounded even louder in comparison to the silence outside, and, to my surprise, somewhat feminine. "That was uncalled for. I didn't mean to make you upset!" His words were coming out in a rush, an octave or two higher than normal, and starting to give me a headache. "I shouldn't have—"

"Shut up."

Nagihiko blinked once and then stared at me, stunned into silence. I was glad that that had done the trick; Plan B was to slap him. Nagihiko didn't usually get worked up, and that fact, coupled with the sudden voice change, was enough to freak me out a little. "You don't need to apologize," I pointed out. "I'm not upset; the question just caught me off guard."

Nagihiko, still unable to think up an intelligent response, only nodded.

We continued to walk side by side, neither of us speaking. I wasn't sure what Nagihiko was thinking, but I was contemplating the question he'd asked. _Do your parents ever hit you on purpose? Even when you aren't trying to get between them?_ Was he asking if my parents struck me when they were angry with me? As much as I didn't want to answer the question, I knew that if anyone had the right to know, it was Nagihiko; I couldn't tell him half of a story and not the other half.

"Yes." The word, though whispered, sounded louder than usual in the silence. Beside me, Nagihiko stiffened and made an almost inaudible sound in the back of his throat. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me," I said, the stubbornness returning to my voice. "I don't need sympathy from anyone." I had always been the type of person to deal with my problems alone, not seeking help, nor pity from anyone. I didn't want to burden them the way I had burdened my parents.

"I don't feel bad for you," Nagihiko said suddenly, and I looked up at him in confusion. "Pity is useless. What does a person gain by having others feel sorry for them?" His view was much different than mine, but it was interesting, so I listened to him. "But," he continued, "Just because someone doesn't pity you, that doesn't mean they aren't worried about you. People that take pity on you simply feel bad for you, being in the situation you're in. It's usually short-lived—people don't act on feelings of pity."

The way he put it, having someone feel sorry for you was almost insulting—I knew what he meant. Having people feel bad for you didn't make the situation any better. They didn't try to help; those who pitied you were simply thinking, "I'm glad that's not me."

"Real friends _worry _about you." Nagihiko said suddenly, looking down at me. "When someone's worried about you, they actually care. They want to do something to help you, instead of just feeling sorry for you. If a million people pity you, but not one stops to listen, does that do any good? But if one person is really _worried _about you, they'll try to do something about it. Which is better, Rima? I don't pity you in the least—I wouldn't insult you that way. If I can, I want to help you in any way possible."

His entire spiel had left me utterly speechless, and as I stared up at him, I felt tears collecting in my eyes. Until now, I thought there was nobody at all who knew how I felt. But he_ understood. _I'd come to despise all the people who'd said, "That poor little girl. She must have it rough, nearly being kidnapped. She must be upset, the way her parents are always arguing." They said these things from afar, not knowing how truly right they were—but they wouldn't do anything. Having someone that really cared about how _I _felt, rather than just being glad that it wasn't them in my position, was comforting. It made me feel that I wasn't as alone as I'd thought.

I couldn't hold them back anymore, and I felt hot tears begin to trail down my cheeks, several of them falling to the concrete below. I stopped walking, knuckling my eyes like a sleepy child, trying to rub the tears away. A gentle hand rested on my shoulder before Nagihiko pulled me into his arms for the second time that day. Vaguely I remembered that I'd never wanted this to happen again—Nagihiko hugging me like a stuffed toy while I cried into his chest. But at this point, I didn't really see the harm in it.

It was strange that the person I'd never gotten along with would be the one to comfort me, let alone be the only person to really understand my feelings. As ironic as it was, I found that I was glad it was him—I couldn't imagine how awkward it would be if, instead of Nagihiko, it was Tadase, Yaya, or even Amu trying to comfort me.

Nagihiko was patient with me, caressing my hair and gently rubbing my back while I rid myself of the tears that had been threatening to escape since the start of our conversation. Under his gentle touch, it didn't take too long for me to calm down, though after the tears stopped, there was still quite a bit of pitiful sniffling. He brushed the lingering tears from my cheeks with his fingers and gave me a small smile. "You alright?" he asked, and I nodded, taking a shaky breath.

"Thank you," I sniffled, and he nodded. I wondered if he knew that it wasn't just his comforting me that I was thanking him for, but somehow I had a feeling that he did.

"That's enough for now," he murmured, and I guessed that he meant that he was finished with his interrogation, though it hadn't been as bad as I'd feared. Granted, I _had _ended up sobbing like a frightened child again, but that didn't bother me too much.

"Sorry about your shirt," I said rather sheepishly, noticing the tearstains that had imprinted themselves in the fabric of Nagihiko's T-shirt. He just laughed.

"Don't worry about it," he assured me, smiling. "It's late—I should probably get you home so you can get at least a few hours' sleep." He flashed a quick glance at his wrist, once again making me wonder when he'd started wearing a watch. "It's almost four."

"Is it?" I asked, a bit shocked. We'd left at about one-thirty—it didn't seem like two and a half hours had passed since we'd starting talking. "I wouldn't have noticed. I'm not tired at—" The huge yawn that followed cut off my sentence and contradicted it at the same time, causing Nagihiko and myself to laugh.

Suddenly, I was a bit concerned. If we'd been walking for two and a half hours, wouldn't it take the same amount of time to get back to where we'd started? I looked up at Nagihiko, worried.

He must've known what I was thinking to begin with. "Don't worry," he said, laughing. "We're actually pretty close to your house—we walked in a huge circle, or hadn't you noticed?" The truth was, I hadn't noticed. But now that I checked, he was right. When I looked around, I found that we were in an area that I recognized, and that it really _wasn't _far from where I lived.

"If you like, I can carry you," he suggested mildly, earning a glare from me.

"I'm not so tired that I can't walk three blocks," I stated, rolling my eyes for an added effect. He laughed.

"Alright, then let's go." He headed off in the direction of my house, and I nearly had to run to keep up, cursing my short legs the entire time.

"Slow down!" I complained when I finally reached his side. My cheeks were flushed from the sudden expense of energy, and I was at least three times more tired than I had been two minutes ago.

"Oh, sorry. Was I walking too fast?" Nagihiko inquired innocently, and I weakly slapped his arm.

"You think?" Stopping to catch my breath, I noticed that we were already at my house.

"You run faster than you think you do, especially for a midget." Nagihiko teased, ruffling my hair and earning himself another annoyed glare. "Anyway, you'd better get inside," he pointed out. "You need to rest."

Nodding, I headed up to my house, turning back once to smile and say, "Thanks, Nagihiko." Just as I reached the front door, I heard Nagihiko's alarmed voice behind me.

"Hey, Rima?!" Confused, I turned around and looked at him, tilting my head to the side.

"Hmm?"

"If you value your life, I would_ not _suggest walking through that door!" He cautioned, and I realized that he was right. Furthermore, I realized that he'd just about saved my life.

I quickly backed away from the door and scampered to the side of the house, where my window was. Nagihiko followed, stifling the giggles that were threatening to escape; apparently, he found the huge mistake I'd almost made quite hilarious.

It was then that I noticed something—and it wasn't good. "Hey, Nagihiko," I said nonchalantly. "I hate to interrupt your silent laughter, but there seems to be a slight problem."

He blinked and looked at me, unconsciously brushing his long violet hair back with a flick of his wrist. "What's that?" he asked.

"How the heck am I supposed to get back into my house?" I inquired, indicating my two-story window, well out of our reach. Nagihiko was the one that had told me to jump out in the first place, so I was hoping he had some kind of plan to get me back inside.

Sadly, that hope was shattered completely when Nagihiko spoke several seconds later, uttering only one, defeated word.

"Crap..."


	8. One Small Problem

It took several seconds for my situation to really sink in; I had fully relied on Nagihiko to have some sort of plan to get me back into the house, but it was apparent that he had thought of no such thing. Now, he was standing next to me, completely silent and staring guiltily at his shoes.

"Just great," I said, letting out my breath, which I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "I'm locked out of my house, and my parents don't even know that I'm gone." My own words sounded strange to me as my mind registered what they really meant, each one clicking into place: if my parents found out that I'd snuck out of the house this late, I would be in huge trouble, and so would Nagihiko. Though I knew that there wasn't anything my parents could do to him, I still didn't want him to be caught.

This thought was completely overshadowed by another—one that I would've much rather not had: if my parents found out about this, I would be punished. And I knew for a fact that this kind of situation would hold consequences far worse than anything I'd had to endure before. Whatever penalty I received would make the bruised I'd gotten earlier seem like a harmless accident.

These thoughts alone were enough to bring tears to my eyes, and I swiped at my eyes, trying to get rid of them. "I'm sorry, Rima," Nagihiko was saying, his voice low. "I didn't stop to think—hey! Why are you crying?" His hand was on my shoulder instantly, though this time it did absolutely nothing for me. I couldn't be comforted when I was thinking about something like this—I was scared. "Rima? Hey, Rima!"

I said nothing, staring down at my feet. I wondered if I was trembling. Nagihiko's face was suddenly level with mine—he was kneeling on the grass, staring directly at me. Something that resembled fierce determination gleamed in his eyes, but it was shadowed slightly by something else that I couldn't quite place.

"Rima," he said, and his voice was firm. "I'm not letting you get in trouble. I told you earlier, I won't let you get hurt. I'm going to find a way out of this." Th e way he said it, with a firm conviction, it sounded like he was making a promise. I had nothing else to go on, so I had to pin my hopes on Nagihiko. Embarrassed for crying, I knuckled my eyes and sniffed once, feeling like a small child.

Nagihiko stood up and walked back to the house—there was a window beneath mine, on the first floor. I watched as he tried to lift it, but after a second his arms dropped to his sides and he shook his head in frustration.

"The kitchen window might be unlocked," I offered, and he nodded. I followed him around to the other side of the house, and the sound of my parents, still arguing, faded slightly as we moved away from the living room.

"It's no use," Nagihiko huffed after failing to get the unyielding window to budge. "It's locked."

There were no other windows that weren't in close proximity with the living room—there was no way in. I felt hot tears prick my eyes, and I held them back while simultaneously trying to swallow the painful lump in my throat. It was hopeless—I was going to get in trouble no matter what. "Nagihiko," I said quietly. "You should go home." If there was no way to keep me from getting caught, at least Nagihiko shouldn't have to suffer as well.

The look he gave me was enough to make me rethink that statement, as well as wonder if he thought I was completely and irreversibly brain-damaged, or something of the sort. "It's my fault that you're in this mess," he reminded me, and his voice was incredulous. "Do you really think I'm just going to leave you here and let you be beaten because of me?!" I flinched at his harsh choice of words, and he attempted to lower his voice, which had once again shot up several octaves. "Look, Rima. This is my fault. If anything, I can at least convince them that it was my responsibility for getting you to sneak out—I said that I wouldn't let you get hurt, and I don't go back on my word."

It was my turn to stare at him, dumbfounded. In a split second, that staggered silence was filled with a high-pitched, rage-filled shouting that I was surprised to discover was coming from me. "You idiot!" I screamed. "Do you want to keep yourself from ever seeing me again?! Because if you do that, that's exactly what will happen! No one likes a stupid hero, Nagihiko!" I managed to shriek this entire thing out in only one breath, so I started panting, trying to bring some relief to my oxygen-deprived lungs as well as calm myself down.

Nagihiko blinked, and then suddenly looked at me questioningly. "Hey, do you have a hairpin?" he inquired, and I fumed.

"Are you even listening to me?!" I shouted, and he glared.

"Do you have a hairpin, or not?" he asked rather testily, and I stopped yelling. I'd never thought it was possible for Nagihiko to sound mean or irritated—usually when he was mad, he used a sweet tone and a smile that made him even scarier—so this was new to me.

I reached up and managed to free a small hairpin from my unruly curls, which I placed in his outstretched hand without hesitation, wondering what he'd do with it. Nagihiko turned away from me and walked up to the back door, which was next to the kitchen window—we'd tried the knob earlier and found it to be locked as well.

Nagihiko kneeled in front of the door and jammed my hairpin into the lock. I watched carefully as he moved the pin around, and suddenly there was a sharp _click_. Nagihiko stood up and grinned at me triumphantly, while I stood there staring at him in total astonishment.

"_Where_," I asked slowly, "did you learn how to pick locks?" He just grinned, and I decided that it would be better if I didn't know.

"Be careful that you don't let the door squeak when you open it," he cautioned. "Don't forget to lock it behind you. Get inside and make yourself scarce—don't make any noise, just get up to your room without being seen."

"Duh," I said, rolling my eyes. Even though I was being stubborn, I was very grateful. I rested my hand on the doorknob, and then lowered it. Turning back to Nagihiko, I was annoyed to find that there were tears in my eyes. "Thank you," I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady—I had no idea why I was about to cry.

Nagihiko smiled and suddenly hugged me tightly, startling me so much that I let out a tiny yelp. "That's what friends do," he whispered. And I realized that, even though he annoyed me most of the time, Nagihiko was my friend. I highly doubted that I would've ever been able to confide in any of the other Guardians about my situation—not even Amu. So even though we didn't always see eye-to-eye, I was glad that Nagihiko was there.

"Yeah," I agreed when he finally let go of me. "I just love how my _friends _show up at my house at midnight and nag me into jumping out a window." I stuck my tongue out at him, and he laughed.

"Good night, Rima-chan," Nagihiko said, still smiling. He ruffled my hair, and I sighed—I could tell already that that was going to become a habit of his.

"Goodnight, Nagihiko," I replied. He used an honorific with my name, even though it was unnecessary. I didn't bother—after everything I'd told him, I figured that it wouldn't make much of a difference to leave off the honorific. Besides, his name was long enough without me having to add "-kun" to the end of it.

I gave him a little smile before opening the door quietly and slipping inside. Nagihiko waved to me before I shut to door, and I waved back, neither of us daring to say a word for fear of alerting my parents.

Quickly and quietly, I made my way from the kitchen to the stairs—my parents were still fighting, so they didn't notice. I stole a glance at the clock and noticed that it was almost five in the morning. I scrambled up the stairs and into my room, shutting my door to block out my parents' yelling; I wasn't going to get much rest as it was, seeing how late it had gotten, but I wanted to get at least a few hours' worth of much-needed sleep.

Pure exhaustion made it difficult to move very fast, so it took a bit longer than I would've liked for me to change back into my nightgown and discard my clothes on the floor—I was too tired to worry about that.

I had just curled up under the covers and closed my eyes when my cell phone, which was sitting on the little table next to my bed, emitted a loud, high-pitched beep. The part of my brain that wasn't either asleep or resisting the urge to pick up my phone and throw it against a wall wondered who in the world would be texting me at five in the morning. Eventually, my curiosity got the best of me; either that, or I was worried that if I didn't see who I was, I wouldn't be able to sleep at all—I wasn't sure which.

I sat up irritably and snatched my phone, flipping it open. Didn't it occur to the idiot that was texting me that I should be _asleep _at 5 AM? Or that _they _should be asleep at 5 AM? I checked the caller ID, and though my sleepy haze I was able to register faintly that the idiot was Nagihiko—so explained why the sender wasn't home and in bed.

I was too tired to really care about the text message, but something in my head just wouldn't let me be lazy and leave it unopened. So I read the words—though they seemed blurry from my lack of sleep—and took a moment to let them sink in.

**Meet me at the school tomorrow at noon -Nagihiko**

It sounded simple enough, so I flipped my phone shut and put it back on the table, too tired to respond to the message. Even though I was exhausted, mentally as well as physically, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about everything Nagihiko had said, and it was making my tired mind race.

I forced myself not to think about it, and focused on trying to go to sleep; if I didn't get at least a little bit of rest, there was no way that I would be able to drag myself out of bed, let alone meet Nagihiko at the school tomorrow. I was just thankful that it would be Saturday, and I wouldn't have to get up early to get ready for school. At least I would be able to sleep in a little.

I curled into a ball beneath the comforter and closed my eyes, emptying my mind of the day's events in order to get some peace. But I couldn't get rid of every thought—I couldn't help but find myself wondering, _why does he want to meet me tomorrow?_ Even though I was truly curious, I was too tired to think about it for long before my body finally took over, overpowering my fatigued mind, and sleep pulled me under.


	9. Surprise

An uncomfortable bright light was shining directly on my face, making it difficult to open my eyes once I woke up. I raised my arm, shielding my eyes from the sun's white light with my hand, and got out of bed, mentally cursing myself for not shutting my window the night before.

Closing and locking the window beside my bed, I drew the curtain over the glass, cutting off the bright light. Still exhausted from last night's escapade, I lazily shuffled back over to my bed, fully intending to sleep for at least an hour or two longer. However, something made me wonder why the sun had been shining so strongly through my window to begin with.

Irritated by the fact that I couldn't seem to let the question drop, I stole a glance at the clock on my dresser, and immediately discovered why the sun was so bright—it was 11:45 AM. I didn't usually sleep this late, but I figured that I was entitled to a little extra rest after my late-night adventure. Pulling the covers over my head to block out the last of the sunlight, I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. Something, to my annoyance, wouldn't let me—there was a nagging feeling in my stomach that refused to let me slip back into unconsciousness.

Sitting up, irritated and sleepy, I happened to glance at my clock again. 11:48AM. Then I realized why I wouldn't let myself fall asleep—I had to meet Nagihiko at the school in twelve minutes.

Startled into complete wakefulness, I stumbled out of bed and over to my closet, looking for something decent to put on; even though my mind was wide awake, my body was still partially asleep, and I could only hope that I had enough sense to grab an outfit that actually matched.

After giving a new meaning to the phrase, "two-minute shower," I toweled off my hair and tugged on the light pink shirt and white skirt that I had retrieved from my closet, relieved that they went together nicely. Snatching the hairbrush from on top of my dresser, I tugged it quickly through my messy blonde curls, trying not to hurt myself too much in my haste. I didn't have time to check, but I couldn't help but wonder how much of my hair had been snagged in the bristles.

I seized my cell phone from its spot on the table next to my bed, stole one last glance at my clock, which read 11:56, and ran out of my room and down the stairs as fast as my short legs could possibly carry me without causing me to trip and fall. Calling a breathless, "I'm going out!" to my parents, I darted out the front door, letting it slam behind me. Running down the sidewalk in the direction of the school, it occurred to me that my house had been utterly silent—I assumed that they had finally gotten tired of screaming at each other and had decided to call it a night.

Pushing the thought out of my mind, I focused on trying to get to the school without passing out—I was already exhausted from lack of sleep, and running wasn't helping the situation in the least. Thankfully, I didn't live too far away from my destination, and after a few moments, the school building was in sight. The downside to this was that it was impossible for me to run anymore, so I had to settle for a brisk walk.

I scanned the schoolyard for Nagihiko, and found him leaning against the trunk of a large tree, glancing impatiently at his wrist every few seconds. I cut across the schoolyard and trotted up to him. Finally, I could take a break—I stood in front of Nagihiko, doubled over with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

"You're late," he pointed out, and I somehow found the strength to glare at him.

"Punctuality isn't something a person worries about when they've only had a little bit of sleep," I spat, and he raised an eyebrow.

"If you didn't wake up on time," he said slowly, "you could've just called or texted me and let me know that you were going to be late." Upon hearing this, I could only stare at him. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right; it was such a simple solution, yet I had been in too much of a hurry to think of it. This frustrated me to the point that all I could do was get angry.

"Shut up!" I shouted breathlessly, still dead-tired from running. "I'm already exhausted! I don't need you to make me feel stupid as well!"

Nagihiko laughed, earning another glare from me. "Relax," he said nonchalantly, making me want to slap him—I had just sprinted all the way to the school, being the athletically-impaired person that I was, and he was telling me to _relax_.

"Why did you call me out here so early anyway?" I panted, still trying to get my breath. "I didn't get much sleep, and I don't appreciate being dragged to the school in the middle of the morning."

Nagihiko rolled his eyes. "It's not early," he stated bluntly. "And it's not morning—it's afternoon." I was about to say something before he added, in an innocent and sweet tone that made me want to slap him even more, "It's not my fault you stayed up so late, Rima-chan."

"Yes it is!" I wailed, earning a chuckle from him at my reaction. "You're the one who dragged me out of my house at midnight!"

He lifted an eyebrow for the second time, this time in disbelief. "I _dragged _you?" he asked doubtfully, pointing out my choice of words. I was fed up with him already; if he was just going to antagonize me, there was no reason for me to be here.

I turned away from him and began to walk away, back in the direction of my house. Nagihiko caught my wrist and I spun to face him. "Let go," I growled, knowing that despite all the menace I tried to pile into my voice, I probably sounded like an agitated kitten.

"Where are you going?" he questioned, and I attempted to jerk my wrist out of his hand. Unfortunately, he seemed to have no intention of letting go anytime soon.

"I'm going home!" I informed him angrily, trying again to free my wrist, but to no avail. "If you only called me here to get on my nerves, then there was no point in me getting out of bed and coming in the first place!"

Nagihiko stared at me blankly as I made a third futile attempt to pull my hand away. "I had a reason for bringing you here," he stated, and let go of my wrist so suddenly that I nearly fell backward. "But you can go home if you want." I studied his expression—it was blank. But as I stared at him, I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

"If it was really alright for me to leave," I said slowly, "You wouldn't have told me to come here to begin with." Nagihiko was good at manipulating people—even better than Tadase. At least Nagihiko didn't use a puppy-dog face to get what he wanted.

"So?" He was using monosyllables now.

"So," I sighed, "the fact that I'm here is proof enough that you don't want me to leave." I wasn't sure if I was trying to outsmart Nagihiko, or just trying to get him to tell me why he'd asked me to come. Either one would be enough for me, though I was sure that there was no possible way to outsmart him.

Nagihiko looked the slightest bit irritated. "I _did _have a reason for bringing you here," he said for the second time. "So obviously, I _don't _want you to leave. But I'm not going to force you to stay if you don't want to. So if that's the case, you can go home." Stupid reverse psychology. What annoyed me was that I was actually falling for it.

"Just tell me why I'm here, and maybe I won't want to leave," I muttered, and Nagihiko smirked.

"It's a secret," he said teasingly, and I fumed. "Now, are you going to go home, or can we get going already?"

"That depends on where we're going," I told him, though I had a feeling that he wasn't planning on telling me.

"You'll see when we get there," he replied, and began to walk away. "It's your decision whether you want to follow me," he called over his shoulder, not breaking his stride.

If it had been anyone else, or any other situation, I would've undoubtedly gone in the opposite direction; I didn't play mind games. But unfortunately, my curiosity got the best of me—that seemed to be happening a lot lately. I didn't have anything better to do, and I certainly didn't want to go back home; I told myself that this was simply because I had bothered to come out here, and I didn't want my trouble to be for nothing.

"Slow down!" I called, taking off in the direction that he'd gone. I had already run all the way to the school, and my legs were tired enough without having to sprint after Nagihiko, who could probably walk faster than I could run. The only reason that I managed to catch up to him was because he'd stopped to wait for me.

"I thought you were going home," he said innocently, causing me to glare up at him.

"I still might," I warned. "So behave yourself."

Nagihiko let out a small laugh. "Yes ma'am," he replied respectfully before he started walking again at a fast pace that was nearly impossible for me to keep up with.

"Don't walk so fast!" I panted, struggling to stay next to him. He slowed down, laughing.

"Sorry, I forgot that you were so short," he teased, and I slapped his arm. He didn't react, and I wondered if he'd even felt it.

I hadn't noticed how warm it was outside; I was glad that I'd worn something that wouldn't cause me to overheat. Looking up at the sky, I noticed that there were hardly any clouds at all—it was a nice day to be out and about, even if you didn't know where you were headed.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear," I said, looking up at Nagihiko. He looked down at me, giving me his full attention, and I spoke so that even he couldn't doubt the seriousness in my voice. "This is not, under any circumstances whatsoever, a date."

He stared at me for a second or two before bursting into a fit of laughter. "I hadn't considered it that way in the first place," he assured me. "But now that you mention it—"

"No!" I interrupted him mid-sentence, and he just laughed. I wondered if it was too late to turn around and head home. I folded my arms over my chest while he laughed beside me. Hoping to change the subject, I muttered, "Are we there yet?"

Nagihiko lifted an eyebrow—that was starting to get to me. "Are you that excited?" he questioned, and I shook my head stubbornly.

"I'm tired of walking," I huffed. "And I don't know where you're taking me, so that make it kind of difficult to look forward to it."

"So you're just impatient, then," he stated, and I bit back a sharp retort.

"Pretty much."

Nagihiko laughed—I found it odd how he laughed at the slightest things, even if they weren't funny in the least. He always seemed to laugh like that when he was around me, though, so apparently he found me downright hilarious. That itself was a scary thought. "Don't worry," he said. "It won't be much longer."

That did little to reassure me, but I didn't say anything else. I was trying to think of something to say to change the subject, because I didn't like the silence that had settled between us. Suddenly, my stomach growled—I couldn't tell whether it was as loud as it sounded, or if the noise had been amplified by the silence; either way, we both heard it, and I blushed furiously while Nagihiko grinned.

"Let me guess," he started. "You ran out of the house so quickly that you didn't eat anything." It wasn't a question.

"Basically," I admitted, and my stomach growled again, as if to back up the statement.

"We'll get something to eat once we get there, Rima-chan," he assured me. I still wasn't sure why he continued to use an honorific with my name—that might make for an interesting conversation.

"Nagihiko?" He looked down at me upon hearing his name, waiting for me to continue. "Why do you add an honorific onto my name?"

The trivial question seemed to catch him off guard, and he stared at me for a moment before clearing his throat. "Why do you ask?" I wondered if he was avoiding the question, though I didn't see why he would have any reason to.

"I was just wondering," I replied innocently. I wasn't usually the type to ask pointless questions, so I could understand why Nagihiko might be a little confused.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't really know," he mused. "I guess it just became a habit. And," he added playfully, "I thought that if I didn't, you might yell at me." I rolled my eyes at the comment, but before I could make up some kind of comeback, he asked, "Why _don't_ you use an honorific with my name?"

For an instant, I thought that I might have upset him in some way. "Does it offend you?" I asked quickly, and he shook his head.

"No, I was just wondering," he quoted the words I'd spoken not two minutes ago.

I decided to tell him the truth—lying to him would be senseless after telling him as much as I had already. "Well, I figured that after everything I've told you, it wouldn't make much of a difference. Besides," I reasoned, "you're name is too long to begin with. Why make more work for myself by adding a fifth syllable?"

Nagihiko started to laugh. "Is that Rima-logic?" he asked, and I nodded. "You know," he said nonchalantly, "you could always start calling me 'Nagi'" I choked on air—the day I started calling him by the affectionate nickname that Yaya used would be the day that hell froze over.

"Aw, c'mon," he sighed, noticing my reaction. "It wouldn't kill you." He was right about that, but if it didn't kill me, I would at least gag every time I said it. I made a face at the thought, which sadly, Nagihiko noticed. He said nothing else, and that alone declared the matter closed.

We walked in silence for a few moments before Nagihiko stopped abruptly. Wondering why he'd come to such a sudden halt, I stopped next to him and stared at him questioningly. "We're here," he pointed out, and I realized that I hadn't been paying any attention whatsoever to where I'd been walking. As lost in our multiple conversations as I had been, I was surprised that I hadn't run into a telephone pole or something of the sort.

For the first time since we started walking, I glanced around. My eyes widened slightly, and my gaze finally rested on Nagihiko, who was watching my expression carefully. "So this is why you dragged me out of bed," I concluded, but he didn't laugh. In fact, his expression told me that he was downright edgy.

"If you don't like this, we can go somewhere else," he said quickly, and I wondered why that thought would even cross his mind.

"No!" I shouted, and he blinked in surprise. Hastily dropping my voice, I said quickly, "Here is good." I wondered if I sounded as excited as I felt.

I hadn't been to an amusement park in a very long time.


	10. Her Distraction

I couldn't help but be completely dumbfounded by Rima's sudden change in attitude. Not five minutes ago, she'd been so quiet and reserved. But now she was completely different—her eyes sparkled with excitement and her lips curved up into a smile as she glanced around the amusement park I'd brought her to.

"Where to first?" I asked, unable to hold back my own smile at the thought that she was so happy. The way her eyes gleamed, she reminded me of an energetic child. Rima opened her mouth to reply, but the low growling of her stomach cut her off before she could speak a word. She let out an exaggerated sigh, and I chuckled.

"Alright, good idea," I said, agreeing with her stomach. "Lunch sounds good."

Rima shook her head quickly, her golden curls bouncing around. "I'm not _that _hungry," she insisted stubbornly, and I figured that she was just anxious to decide what we should ride first. "Besides," she said quickly, "you shouldn't eat a lot before you get on the rides." I couldn't argue with that, so I glanced around the park and noticed a taiyaki stand.

"Will you at least eat a taiyaki?" I asked, hoping that she would be reasonable. "You didn't have breakfast, and it's past lunchtime." To my relief, she nodded her head after a brief hesitation, and followed me over to the stand.

I paid for the taiyaki, ignoring Rima's annoyed insistence that she could buy her own, and handed one to her. She let out a defeated sigh and thanked me, sitting down on a bench. I sat beside her, and not five minutes later, I was shocked to discover that she had already finished eating. "Are you still hungry?" I asked, trying to keep myself from gaping at her in astonishment—I'd never seen someone eat that fast, especially not Rima, being as little as she was. She shook her head, and I finished my taiyaki quickly, trying not to make her wait too long.

She jumped up from the bench and I laughed at her expression—she really did look like an excited child on Christmas morning. "What do you want to go on first?" I inquired, and she adopted a thoughtful expression.

"I don't know," she admitted, and I couldn't help but laugh at her indecisiveness.

"We've got all day," I reminded her. "So why don't we just ride the first thing we come across?" Rima nodded, and walked by my side through the amusement park while we looked for something to ride.

I kept glancing down at Rima, who was wearing a huge smile—I'd never seen her smile like that and mean it, and it made me feel good to know that for now, at least, she was happy. She could smile all she wanted and forget about her troubles for a while. After everything she'd been through, she deserved to be able to let everything go and enjoy herself.

"Earth to Nagihiko!" Rima's voice broke into my thoughts, and I jumped, startled.

"Yes, Rima-chan?" I replied, trying to act as if I hadn't been spacing out for the past five minutes. Somehow, I didn't think it worked.

"Oh, good, you're awake," she observed, lifting an eyebrow. "Now for the third time, can we ride the teacups?" For an instant, I wondered why she would want to get on the teacups, of all things. But I decided that it didn't matter—I had brought her here to enjoy herself, so I fully intended to let her ride whatever she wanted.

"Of course," I responded, smiling down at her. She smiled back—something that, up until now, I though could never have happened. Rima scampered over to the line, which wasn't long at all, and I followed, standing next to her. It wasn't long before the teacups stopped spinning and several people exited though the gate on the other side of the ride. There were about five people in front of us, and all of them boarded the ride; Rima and I were the last ones to get on, and we got into the first empty teacup we located—coincidentally, it was purple and yellow.

Rima looked at me, and I smiled at her; suddenly, the smile was gone from her face, replaced by a discontented frown. "You're alright with this?" she questioned, and I tilted my head in confusion. "This isn't too childish for you?" she elaborated, and I shook my head.

"Whatever you want to ride is alright with me," I assured her, and she gave a tiny nod, still not looking entirely convinced. The teacups began to move, spinning slowly at first, but picking up speed. Rima seemed to be enjoying the ride, and I was content just watching her laugh. I wondered how long it had been since she'd really been able to let go and laugh like this. Before I knew it, I was laughing with her.

After several moments, the motion of the teacups began to slow, and eventually they stopped altogether. Standing, the two of us exited the ride, Rima still smiling and giggling. "Did you have fun?" I asked, and she nodded.

"But this time," she said, her tone switching to an abrupt seriousness, "it's your turn to pick the ride."

I blinked. "We're taking turns?" I inquired, and she nodded.

"I would feel selfish if I chose every ride we went on," she pointed out. "So you're going to pick some, too." The way she said it, I didn't have much room to argue. However, I figured that if she was going to force me to pick a ride, I might as well have a little fun with it.

"Alright," I said, hiding the grin that was threatening to appear. "Come on, then." I lead her in the opposite direction of the teacups, and she followed closely, looking around every few seconds at the unfamiliar grounds of the amusement park.

Finally reaching my destination, I stopped in front of the ride and looked down at Rima, wondering what her reaction would be. As I expected, it wasn't favorable. The little blonde's eyes widened in shock as she stared at the ride I'd chosen, and she let out a little squeak. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"You told me to pick," I reminded her, and she shook her head furiously, her curls ricocheting off her face.

"I didn't think you'd go crazy!" she shrieked, staring at me in shock. "Are you completely nuts?"

In my opinion, she was being overly dramatic. "Roller coasters aren't that bad, Rima," I pointed out, but she remained stubborn.

"No. I won't go. I refuse," she stated, and I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"You really won't go?" I asked, and she shook her head again, staying firmly rooted to the spot at which she stood. "You're really gonna make me go by myself?"

This time, she was silent; Rima didn't even shake her head—I wondered if her resolve was beginning to waver. "I don't want to..." she muttered. I could tell that she was starting to crack.

Taking advantage of the unsure note in her voice, I let out a little sigh. "You don't have to," I said in a slightly disheartened tone. "I guess I'll go alone. I just thought it would be more fun to go together." I turned away and started toward the end of the line, which was a bit longer than the one at the teacups.

Rima stayed where she was, though I noticed her casting hesitant glances over her shoulder every now and then. After a moment or two, she scampered over to me at the end of the line. "Yes, Rima-chan?" I asked innocently, and she huffed, muttering something incoherent. I arched an eyebrow in confusion. "You'll have to speak up."

"You owe me for this..." she said a little louder, and I laughed.

"I said that you didn't have to," I reminded her. "I don't mind going alone, though it would be nice to have you along," I added, somewhat contradicting my previous statement.

Rima still looked hesitant as she murmured, "I'll go with you." I could tell that she was scared half to death, though she was trying to hide it.

I suddenly felt bad for trying to guilt her into going on the ride. "Rima-chan," I said quietly. "You really don't have to go. If you're scared, it's alright. We can go ride something else."

She shook her head. "You want to ride this, right?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Look, Nagihiko," Rima huffed. "I'm riding the stupid roller coaster, alright? If nothing else, just to be able to say that I've ridden one." I blinked, shocked at her sudden change in attitude—Rima was a bit moody today.

"Alright," I replied, not really knowing what else to say. The line had moved up a bit during our little exchange; after the ride currently taking place, it would be our turn. I only hoped that Rima would be able to get past the "you must be this tall to ride" sign.

The roller coaster came to a stop, and the passengers exited the ride, some giggling, others looking a little sick. Rima was, in fact, tall enough to ride, exceeding the height standard by about half an inch. We sat down in the third car from the front and pulled the safety bar securely down; Rima looked terrified.

Hoping to comfort her, I touched he shoulder lightly. "It won't be that bad," I said soothingly, though my words did little to reassure the small girl next to me. Once every car was full, the train began its ascent up the first steep incline. Rima tensed next to me, and when I looked over at her, I noticed that her eyes were shut tightly. The murmurs of the other passengers could be heard over the steady sound of the train moving over the track.

As we neared the top of the hill, Rima let out a small whimper of fear and opened her eyes. "Why did I let you talk me into this?" she asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"I didn't. You're the one that said you wanted to come on the ride. I never said you had to." We were nearly at the top. "Just try to relax and have fun."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "Coming from the boy who made me jump out a two-story window."

"That's the spirit," I laughed, and Rima glared at me. Suddenly the train dipped over the incline, and Rima let out a loud, high-pitched shriek. I was, to put it bluntly, fearless when it came to this kind of thing. I enjoyed the thrill, the wind whipping against my face and blowing my hair back behind me.

Rima, however, did not. After a few seconds, she grabbed hold of my arm and buried her face in my shoulder, causing me to laugh. I enjoyed the rest of the ride, while Rima clung to my sleeve, praying for the whole, horrifying experience to be over. After a moment or two, the train slowed to a stop at the entrance, and the safety bar was unlocked.

"Rima-chan," I said to the blonde, who still had her face pressed firmly against my shoulder. "It's over. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was horrible..." came the muffled reply.

I laughed. "Glad you enjoyed it," I said. "Now may I please have my arm back?"

Rima, seeming to realize who it was that she was clinging to, let go of me and scooted away, blushing furiously. "Shut up." I smiled and helped her to her feet, stepping out of the car and leading her to the exit. "I'm picking the next ride, and we're never going on that _thing_ again," she said firmly, and I nodded.

As I followed Rima away from the roller coaster, I noticed that she seemed to be looking for something in particular. She kept glancing around, shaking her head, and then leading me off in a different direction. Finally, she stopped in front of a ride that was even more unexpected than the teacups. She looked away from me, looking highly embarrassed as I studied her and asked, "The Merry-go-Round?"

Rima blushed, staring down at her feet. "It's something I've liked since I was little," she admitted sheepishly. "I used to ride it every time my parents brought me to an amusement park. But that hasn't happened in a long time..."

If taking Rima on the Merry-go-Round reminded her of the happier times in her life, then there was no way that I was going to stop her. "That's fine," I assured her, and she looked away.

"You're not embarrassed?" she asked. "It's a kiddy-ride."

I laughed at her logic. "Not at all," I replied. "If you want to ride it, then I'll come with you. After all, you rode the roller coaster with me." I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

There wasn't much of a line at all, save for a couple of parents waiting to take their small children on the ride. I held back a laugh at the thought that to any random passer-by, I would just look like someone taking his little sister on the ride—Rima could pass for an average seven-year-old.

When the ride stopped and the current passengers got off, Rima and I stepped up onto the platform. Staring at all the oddly-colored horses brought back memories of being a small child myself. Rima scrambled up onto one of the horses and stared at me, her eyes level with mine for once. I hadn't planned on getting on one of the horses myself, but the look she was giving me made me feel like if I didn't, I might hurt her feelings. So I jumped up onto the one next to hers, earning a smile from the little blonde.

The playful music began, and the ride moved slowly in circles while the fake horses bobbed up and down—I could see why children loved this ride so much. I watched Rima throughout the duration of the ride; she looked content, but as I watched, tears began to well in her amber eyes. By the time the ride was over, the tears had begun to spill down her cheeks.

I helped her down and led her away from the Merry-go-Round, sitting down with her on a bench and resting my hand on her shoulder. "Rima-chan, why are you crying?" I asked, and she shook her head, knuckling her eyes.

"I just wish I could come to places like this with my family like I used to," she sniffled. The tears she managed to rub away were replaced with fresh ones as she continued, "I used to be happy—everything used to be fun. Going on that ride reminded me of that. And even though I can't enjoy this kind of thing with my family anymore, I'm glad that I came today. I'm glad you brought me here. Thank you."

I smiled and hugged her gently. "Anytime," I whispered, and she succeeded in getting the tears to stop. It was getting a bit late, and I knew that I had to take her home soon. "We have time for one more ride," I suggested, and she nodded.

"It's your turn to choose," Rima pointed out, and I shook my head.

"Take your pick," I insisted, and she thought for a minute before pointing to the Ferris wheel. I smiled and nodded, and we both headed toward the center of the park.

Rima seemed to be lost in thought, but she looked up at me when we reached the Ferris wheel in the very middle of the amusement park. There was no line, so we sat down and waited for the ride to start up. After a moment or so we began a slow ascent, and I looked around, gazing out over the park.

Near the very top, Rima spoke up, though her voice was quiet. "Amazing, isn't it?" she whispered, and I nodded in agreement.

"You can see over the entire park," I breathed, and Rima looked down at the ground.

"All those people, just going about their own business," she said quietly, and I tilted my head to the side. "They all have somewhere to go, or something to do. That's the obvious thing. But how many of them have some kind of problem? How many of those people have something to worry about? How many of them are wearing a mask to hide their troubles, like I did? It's impossible to tell. It's impossible to know, just by looking at a person, what burdens lay in their heart, or what hardships they've faced. No one can tell, so no one can help them."

I was a bit caught off guard by what she said, and I could only sit there and listen as she continued.

"And even if someone does find out, there's a chance that they won't bother to help. My situation is similar—no one knew. Even my closest friend had no idea. Not even Amu could tell. I didn't want her to know. But you could tell, despite my efforts to keep it a secret."

From the start, I'd known that something was bothering Rima. I had wanted to ask her about it—I had wanted to help. But I could never find an opportunity. The truth was that if I hadn't come across her crying all alone in the girls' bathroom after school, we wouldn't be here right now.

"How did you know?" Rima asked, turning to me. "And why did you decide to help me? It wasn't your concern, but you made it your own problem."

I wasn't sure how to answer, so I remained silent for a moment. "To be honest," I began slowly, "I'm not entirely sure how I knew. You kept Amu in the dark because you didn't want to trouble her, am I right?" Rima gave a little nod, so I continued. "Maybe," I suggested, "I could see through your façade because I didn't consider it a burden—I wanted to help you in any way that I could. I was worried about you."

Rima was quiet for a while, gazing out over the park from the highest point on the Ferris wheel. "But wasn't it a pain?" she asked quietly. "Worrying about me like that must have been bothersome. What's the point of worrying about other people? If everyone handled their problems on their own, without burdening others with their troubles, the world would be less chaotic."

"You're wrong," I stated bluntly, causing Rima to look up at me in surprise. "We worry about others because we care about them—it's human nature. If every single person tried to take care of their problems by their self, how many of them wouldn't be able to handle it? Being able to share our feelings with others, whether sorrowful or joyous, is what makes us happy. If everyone kept to themselves, the world would be an awfully lonely place."

Rima stared at me, and a small smile played on her lips. "You're right," she agreed quietly. "I don't know if I could've handled my own pain for much longer. Having someone there to talk to makes it easier. Knowing that I could let everything go instead of holding it in when I'm around someone. Knowing that they won't mind if..." Rima's voice cracked a little, and I saw that there were tears in her eyes. "If I start to cry..."

I smiled and rested my hand on her shoulder. "That's right," I whispered, petting her hair as if I was comforting a small child. "I'm here. I promise that as long as you need me, as long as you need someone to talk to, I'll be here for you."

I had to admit that some may find it inconvenient to comfort another person the way I was right now. But this was a burden that I had willingly taken on. And a second or two later, when Rima smiled up at me through her tears, I knew that, to me, it didn't feel like a burden at all.


	11. Normality

It seemed a lot easier for me to smile now—even though the constant bickering of my parents bothered me beyond belief, I found that I could temporarily forget my home troubles when I left for school. I decided that, from now on, I would make an effort to laugh around my friends in the Royal Garden instead of spacing out and becoming consumed in my own worries.

This resolve, however, did little to change the fact that I hated Mondays with a passion; having to wake up early after having two days to sleep in wasn't pleasant. Having to wake up early after two days of getting _less _sleep than _usual_ was the equivalent of being thrown into a freezing cold lake.

As the day dragged on, I found it increasingly difficult—if not impossible—to stay awake throughout the duration of my classes, repeatedly having to jerk myself awake before my nose could make an unpleasantly painful contact with my desktop.

The bell let out an earsplitting shriek, startling me out of a slight doze, and I was barely able to stifle a scream of my own. This, I thought bitterly, was why I despised alarm clocks.

Thankful that the final class of the day had come to an end, I grabbed my schoolbag and shuffled out of the room, my destination being the Royal Garden. Though I was still slightly irritable from the—literal—rude awakening I'd received in the classroom, I was eager to see my friends.

Due to my lack of sleep, I was a little clumsier than usual, and it took a bit more effort to dodge through the students in the hall. Despite bumping into several of them and having to mutter a couple of annoyed apologies, I managed to make it to the Royal Garden in one piece. However, I was the last of the Guardians to arrive. Although my friends had already assembled, a quick glance at the clock assured me that I was, in fact, on time.

"Hi, Rima-tan!" Yaya's painfully high voice greeted me as I entered the Garden. "You're not usually late! Yaya was starting to think you got lost!" Yaya's tendency to yell out every word made me wonder if she used exclamation marks more often than periods when writing essays or doing other schoolwork.

"She's not late," Amu pointed out, absentmindedly fiddling with a pen. "Everyone else just got here earlier than usual."

"Really?" Yaya sat back down in her seat, her pigtails bobbing slightly. "Yaya hadn't noticed!"

Giving a small smile, I pulled out my chair and sat down, letting my schoolbag drop onto the floor beside me. Tadase nodded to me, greeting me with a simple, "Mashiro-san." I returned the nod, but remained silent.

Suddenly the only person at the table who had thus far remained silent spoke up. "Good afternoon, Rima-chan," Nagihiko started. "Did you have fun thi—" The violet-haired boy's statement was suddenly cut off when a projectile cookie made contact with his head. "Ow! What was that for?" he yelped. To be perfectly honest, Nagihiko was lucky; the cookie had been the object closest to me at that moment. As desperate—to put it bluntly—as I was to shut him up, I could've grabbed anything within reach to throw at him. Nagihiko should've been grateful that it was the cookie rather than the pen in Amu's hand; cookies were definitely less-lethal projectiles than anything that ended in a sharp point.

There was a long, apprehensive silence in which Yaya, Tadase and Amu stared at me in total astonishment while Nagihiko flicked cookie crumbs out of his hair in an irritated fashion. I had no doubt in my mind as to why they were so shocked—a lot had happened in the past few days, and they hadn't been around to see it.

The tension in the room was almost tangible as Amu looked at me questioningly. Yaya, who was looking overly-excited, was staring at me with an almost-maniacal gleam in her eyes. If I didn't do something fast, there would be absolutely no way to avoid the interrogation that was sure to come.

"Rima?" Amu asked quietly, though her voice sounded loud in comparison to the thick silence. _Don't! _I begged with my eyes. _I know what you're going to ask, and I'd really rather you— _"When did Nagihiko start calling you 'Rima-chan'?"

I couldn't help but flinch; although this question was relatively harmless compared to the hysteria that would've ensued if Nagihiko had finished his sentence not two minutes before, it was still something I'd rather not talk about at the moment. Why couldn't her question have been something easier, like, _why in the world did you just fling a cookie at Nagihiko_? I could only be thankful that the cookie had been enough to prevent—or rather, postpone—questions that could've been much more uncomfortable.

I didn't respond. The silence dragged on for what seemed like an eternity before I acted on impulse and stood up, nearly knocking my chair backward. I turned away from the table and headed toward the Royal Garden's exit, shooting Nagihiko a look that said, "Come with me if you don't want to die in your sleep," and left no room to reason.

I waited outside the Royal Garden for about a minute and a half before Nagihiko caught up to me, exasperation clear on his features. "Would you please explain why you hurled a snack at my head?" he asked, not meeting my eyes. In the short silence that followed, he went back to compulsively picking crumbs out of his thick violet hair.

Knowing that I wouldn't be able to escape the question-and-answer session from Amu and Yaya after school made me more than a little irritable. "What exactly are you trying to do?" I barked, but Nagihiko ignored me completely, too focused on the task at hand to notice my yelling. I stomped on his foot.

"Owww! Rima, why are you abusing me?" Nagihiko whined, causing me to glare at him.

"You're such an idiot!" I growled, pointing a finger at him. "How could you not expect the others to ask questions? Did you think that they would just be okay with us being so friendly with each other, after fighting like cats and dogs since we got acquainted?"

Nagihiko, still nursing his injured foot, arched an eyebrow. "That would make you the psychotic, vicious Pomeranian, and me the cute and innocent kitten, right?" he asked sweetly. I responded by stomping hard on the same foot.

"Owww... See? You're tormenting me!" Nagihiko gave a fake sob, and I rolled my eyes.

"I don't feel bad for you in the least," I stated matter-of-factly. "You're the one who should be feeling guilty, leaving me all alone to face _those two_. You know that Amu and Yaya are going to pounce on me as soon as the meeting's over."

"Sucks to be you," he deadpanned back, and I raised my hand to slap him. "Wait!" he pleaded, and I lowered it reluctantly. "Why can't you just tell them the truth?"

There was a silence in which I stared at Nagihiko blankly, dumbstruck by the sheer stupidity of what he'd said. I decided that I just might slap him after all, but instead I gave a sweet, syrupy smile. "Alright," I agreed, and Nagihiko nodded.

"See? All you have to do is—wait, what?" He seemed to catch on that there was no way I'd give in so easily. "What're you trying to pull?"

I smiled innocently. "Who, me? Nothing at all. I'll tell Amu-chan and Yaya all about my little problem. While we're on the subject of honesty, I might as well tell them about Nadeshiko, too. Friends don't keep big secrets like that, do they?"

At first, I didn't understand why, but Nagihiko flinched and turned his gaze away from me. I figured that he was just pouting, so I didn't make a big deal of it. "Do you think I _like _lying to my friends?" he suddenly asked, and my eyes widened in shock at his tone. His voice was bitter with regret.

A heartfelt apology wasn't something I was used to giving, and it made me feel extremely awkward, considering who I was speaking to. "I'm sorry," I muttered, just loudly enough for him to hear. "That was... Uncalled for."

Nagihiko blinked, too stunned to focus on being upset anymore. _Short attention-span, much? _I thought with a bit of amusement. Nagihiko suddenly laughed loudly, and I amended the thought. _Mood swings. He sure takes playing the part of a girl seriously. He can even fake PMS._

"First you abuse me, and then you apologize for offending me," Nagihiko chuckled, and I glowered at him.

"I could abuse you some more, if you'd prefer," I suggested darkly, and he inched backward a bit.

"No thanks, I've taken enough abuse for one day." Nagihiko suddenly stopped talking, was silent for a moment, and then started to laugh hysterically. I'd never seen Nagihiko crack up quite like this, and I wondered if he was having some type of seizure. "Rima-chan, c'mere for a second."

Hesitantly, I stepped a bit closer. I wouldn't put it past Nagihiko to want some type of revenge for the mild beating I'd put him through as well as the slight verbal abuse. However, he also didn't seem to be the type of person to hit a girl, so I figured that I was safe.

Standing in close proximity to Nagihiko, I could hear Yaya's voice, which was just loud enough to be heard through the door. "Amu-chi! What if she kills him?" Nagihiko stifled a giggle next to me while my eyes widened. "Nagi's in danger!"

Amu's voice, which was softer, was more difficult to hear through the door—but not impossible. "Rima's not a murderer, Yaya. Nagihiko will be fine."

Beside me, I heard Nagihiko mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, "Something isn't considered 'dangerous' unless it's at least _half _as tall as you are..."

I bristled. "Is that a short joke?"

"Yes."

"Good job denying it," I said sarcastically, followed by a loud wail from Yaya.

"Whatever, Amu-chi! If Nagi dies, it'll be all your fault!"

Nagihiko nudged me with his elbow. "We should get back in there before they start to think you really did kill me," he advised, chuckling.

I rolled my eyes. "We need an excuse of some sort," I stated the obvious.

Nagihiko shrugged. "Easy. I was just trying to be friendly. As always," he added with a grin. I had to admit that even though Nagihiko could be witty and sarcastic in the most annoying ways, he usually was a friendly person.

I nodded in silent agreement. "Nagihiko?"

He looked down at me—making me feel even shorter—and blinked. "Hm?"

I let out a gusty sigh. "Just because you bug the crap out of me doesn't mean I don't... _Appreciate _the things you've done for me these past few days," I admitted, though I was sure he already knew that. For some reason, I felt the need to say it out loud, as a kind of apology for this whole mess.

Nagihiko smiled at me, and then ruffled my messy blonde hair, giving me a reason to glower up at him. I had been right—this had developed into a habit. He then opened the door, and we both reentered the Royal Garden, me still looking like a discontented child.

"Nagi!" Yaya screeched, causing us all to flinch. "You're alive!"

"Of course...?" he replied, playing dumb and sitting down in his chair. I gave an exaggerated huff and flopped down in mine, glaring at the table as if it had insulted me.

"So..." Amu looked slightly uncomfortable.  
"Don't worry, Amu-chan," Nagihiko gave one of his sickeningly-sweet honey smiles. "I was only trying to be friendly with her. As expected, it didn't work. But I can try, can't I?" He shrugged, and I felt a slight twinge of jealousy that I couldn't act that well. Nagihiko turned his gaze on me. "Isn't that right, Mashiro-san?" I made a non-committal sound in the back of my throat, and he laughed. "Isn't that right, _Rima-chan_?" he amended under his breath, and I couldn't help but show the slightest of smiles.

"Hey, Nagihiko?" I mouthed when no one was looking. He tilted his head in acknowledgement and I continued silently, "Is your foot okay?"

His only response was a thumbs-up, accompanied by a warm laugh.


	12. A Storm

A month had passed since I'd told Nagihiko about my struggles. In more ways than one, he was my lifeline; though the harsh words and fighting of my parents never ceased, and every day was a challenge, Nagihiko was the one who kept my head above water. He was always there to make my days just a little better. He was someone to hold onto.

This day, however, Nagihiko was not in school. I figured he'd come down with something—there was a bug circulating through the school, and a lot of students had been out with it the past few days.

Without Nagihiko there, my day at school didn't go too well. In fact, the day in general hadn't been the best. It was silly to think that his absence was causing my day to be worse; everyone had bad days—today just happened to be worse than others.

When I'd woken up that morning, my parents had already been fighting. The subject was, as usual, something petty that only they could manage to start an argument over—neither of them wanted to be the one to take me to school. They were so caught up in their quarrel that they didn't even notice when I slipped out the front door and disappeared. I left them in dispute over a conflict that no longer existed.

It was raining when I got outside. I wondered if I _should _go back and ask one of them to drive me to school to avoid walking in the rain—the angry shouting and streams of curse words that flowed audibly through the door washed that idea away like the rain streaming in tiny torrents through the grass. Not even wanting to risk going back into the house for an umbrella, I started toward the school, my head down to keep the large raindrops out of my face.

Not until I was three-quarters of the way to school did I become aware that I had left my bag at home. I considered leaving it, even though I knew that I wouldn't be able to do anything in class without my books. What finally forced me to go back for the forgotten schoolbag was the realization that without the boxed lunch inside, I wouldn't have anything to eat all day.

By the time I'd trudged back to my house, my hair was soaking wet and clinging to my face in little golden ringlets. My uniform wasn't much better, so I tossed it into the clothes-dryer and scampered upstairs to offer some help to my hair. The clock read seven twenty-five. School didn't start until seven-fifty, so I figured I was safe.

After a lot of careful combing and a few furious attacks from the hair-dryer, my golden mop of hair looked presentable enough, and I hurried downstairs to fetch my uniform, ignoring the heated bickering of my parents. The fabric of my uniform was still warm from the heat of the clothes-dryer as I changed back into it. Grabbing my schoolbag and an umbrella, I dashed out the door, letting it slam behind me. My parents didn't notice.

It was impossible to run in my school shoes due to the rain-slick sidewalk under my feet, so I had to make do with a hurried walk as I tried to get to school before I was considered tardy. By the time I got to my classroom, however, it was five minutes after eight. I walked into the classroom quietly and tried to shuffle inconspicuously to my seat, but I caught Nikaidou's eye and he turned to me, irritation evident on his face. "Mashiro-san, would you care to explain why you're fifteen minutes late to class?" he inquired stiffly, as I sat down at my seat.

"My apologies," I said quietly, my tiny voice seeming loud in the silent room. "I got caught in the rain." There were a couple of gasps from the male half of the class, which I ignored completely. Nikaidou just glared; I guessed that he hadn't had his coffee yet this morning.

"See me after class," he said bluntly, and turned back to scribbling on the blackboard. Amu looked at me questioningly from her seat beside me, and I shrugged in response. The rest of class slid by slowly, as if time had somehow been slowed by the gloomy clouds and heavy raindrops that splashed outside the windows. Nikaidou's lesson didn't seem important, and listening to him seemed pointless—even he seemed to be in slow motion today, his words dragged out as if every single one were a challenge.

I looked up, bored with drawing small pictures on my desktop, and glanced around at my classmates. Amu was staring ahead, and anyone would've thought she was paying attention to the lesson if it were not for the blank look in her eyes. Tadase had fallen asleep, his arms folded on his desk, and his chin resting on them. One or two of the other students were taking notes, and some of them were glancing around at the others, like I was doing. The only empty desk was the one Nagihiko usually sat at. He was absent.

Finally, the bell rang and everyone stood up and stretched, except Tadase, who had to be shaken awake by one of the other boys. I looked at Amu, who was waiting for me so that we could to lunch together. "You go ahead," I told her, glancing at Nikaidou's desk. "I'll catch up in a minute." She nodded and left with the other students, who were eager to get out of the stuffy classroom.

I approached Nikaidou's desk, and he turned to me, looking slightly less grumpy than he had before. "So," he said, looking down at me. "Why were you late this morning?"

Rather than tell him the long version of the story, I just repeated what I had when I'd walked in. "I got caught in the rain. My parents couldn't bring me today, so I had to walk." I only hoped he didn't ask why they couldn't bring me.

He pondered for a second or two while I stared at his flaming mess of orangey-red hair. "Alright," he said after a moment. "You've never been late before, so I won't give you a tardy. Just be more careful in the future." I nodded mechanically, and then shuffled out of the room. Amu was waiting for me, though I'd told her to go ahead.

"What'd he say?" She questioned, concern in her eyes. "Did you get in trouble?"

I shook my head. "He just said for it not to happen again," I assured her. "Nothing else." She seemed relieved by this, and began to ramble happily about things I pretended to listen to, nodding my head every few moments and laughing when she laughed. I wasn't really paying too much attention, and suddenly I slipped on the wet floor, falling backward and landing with a painful impact. Today just wasn't my day.

"Rima! Are you alright?" Amu offered her hand to me, and I took it gratefully, making sure I didn't slip again as she helped me up. "You have to be more careful! The floor's wet since everyone's been walking on it after being outside in the rain."

"I'm fine," I assured her, dusting myself off and advancing carefully over the slippery tile surface. "C'mon, it's lunchtime."

The lunch period passed quickly, as usual, with the Guardians chatting happily and the other students making everyday conversation with their friends. Tadase informed me and the rest of the Guardians that there would not be a meeting after school since Nagihiko was absent.

When the bell rang, we went back to our classroom and sat through Nikaidou's horrible blathering until the bell rang for the last time, indicating that we were free of the confinements of the school. I didn't have anything to do, and I didn't want to go home just yet; I wanted to stay out of the way of my conflicting parents as long as possible. I caught Amu on the way out of the school. "Hey, are you free today?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"Sorry, Rima. I told my parents I'd watch Ami today." My bubblegum-haired friend gave a small, apologetic smile. "How about tomorrow?" Dejected, I gave a tiny nod and managed a weak smile.

"See you then." I opened my umbrella and turned in the opposite direction, heading toward my house. The rain hadn't let up at all since that morning—if anything, it had gotten heavier, a torrential downpour from the sullen gray clouds hanging overhead. The low rumbling of thunder echoed ominously in the distance, and I quickened my pace, not wanting to get caught in a storm.

Finally reaching my house, I closed my umbrella and opened the door. Immediately, I was greeted by angry shouts and curses, though they were not directed at me. I kicked off my shoes and dropped the wet umbrella on the floor, scampering up the stairs and into my room, where I changed out of my school uniform and into something more comfortable.

My room was very dark, as if night had fallen; the dark, angry clouds had completely blotted out the sun as they cast their tears over the city. I sat down by the window and stared out at the sky through the rain. The threatening growl of thunder sounded much closer, and as I watched, an angry slash of lightning split the sky, illuminating the darkness for a second before disappearing.

Downstairs, I could hear harsh shouts, accompanied by the sound of things breaking—dishes, most likely. I closed my eyes and buried my head between my knees, trying to block out the sound, but to no avail.

Suddenly a deafening burst of thunder roared outside my window, drowning out every other audible sound. As it started to die away, I smiled to myself. I liked thunder. Was it the sky's way of yelling out its problems to the world, instead of bottling them up? Or maybe, I thought, it was the anger and sadness that people like me locked away and refused to show to others. It had nowhere to go, so it just built up. And the anger and sadness of all those people would keep building up, until the sky just screamed it out for them. That was where thunder came from, I decided.

Maybe rain was all the tears that the people of the world refused to shed. They refused to cry, so the clouds cried for them. Maybe that was why rainy days were always so gloomy and sad. But then, when the thunder died down and the rain stopped, the sun would come out. Maybe there would even be a rainbow. Was that it? Maybe the earth itself was trying to tell us that if we didn't let our sadness build, that if we let ourselves cry once in a while, we would feel better after it was all over. It was a strange way of thinking. But to me, one of those people, it made perfect sense.

Another loud clap of thunder shook the sky, drowning out the shouts of my parents. I smiled again, watching the rain pour from above. A loud, terrified shriek pierced the air, louder than the thunder. My smile faded. _Mama?_

I stood up quickly, and bolted down the stairs as fast as my short legs could carry me. My parents were not in the living room, where I had seen them earlier. I sprinted into the kitchen and stopped dead.

My father, his features twisted in rage, had my mother brutally pinned against the wall with one arm, refusing to let her move. Clutched in his other fist, aimed at her throat, the cruelly long blade of a kitchen knife. My mother's attention turned immediately to me, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, my eyes wide. She pleaded to me with those eyes; I didn't know whether she was pleading with me to help her or to get away from there as fast as I possibly could. My instincts and my mind were screaming at me to run. I should've listened. I didn't.

I hurled myself at my father, sobbing, pleading for him to let her go. I used all the strength in my petite body to try to pull him away, or to distract him enough so that my mother could break away from him. I could accomplish neither.

Muttering a curse, my father thrust his arm back at me, trying to dislodge me and shove me backward. He only meant to push me away. But I felt the sharp tip of the kitchen knife he wielded dig through my shirt and pierce my skin. I heard the rip of my shirt at the same time that I felt the cruel blade slash across my abdomen. I felt the thick warmth spreading across my belly. My eyes closed, and I saw blackness. I felt nothing.


End file.
